SMALL  THINGS. 


BY 

REESE  i  ROCK  WELL, 


1  For  who  hath  despised  the  day  of  small  things."— ZKCH.  4.  to. 


SEW  YORK: 
PHILLIPS    &    HUNT. 

CINCINNATI: 
CRAXSTON  db   STOWE. 

*£3 


Copyright,  1883,  by 
PHILLIPS    &    HUNT, 

New  York. 


CONTENTS. 


PACS 

I.  FRANK'S  DECISION 5 

II.  ACTING 13 

III.  THE  RAINY  DAY -21 

IV.  HAPPINESS 37 

V.  CIRCUMSTANCES 41) 

VI.  "  A  BIT  OF  FUN  " :,7 

VII.  TRAMPLING  OVER  PEARLS 7;j 

VIII.  LILY  SHERWOOD 80 

IX.    L\  COMPLETENESS 89 

X.  IN  THE  SHADOW 99 

XI.  LOOKING  FOR  THE  SUNSHINE 107 

XII.  A  QUIET  MIND  118 

XIII.  RESPONSIBILITY     127 

XIV.  BITTER  SWEET 1^7 

XV.  TRIFLING  WITH  SOULS 147 

XVI.  WARREN 1  •"> 7 

XVII.  STRENGTH 108 

XVIII.  CLOSER  TO  GOD 175 

XIX.  PROVIDENCES. 167 

XX.  UNTO  THE  UTTERMOST 196 

XXI.  GOD'S  BLESSING 208 

XXII.  RAINBOWS..                                                             .  220 


2212605 


SMALL     THINGS. 


i. 

FRANK'S  DECISION. 

"  Master,  speak  1  and  make  me  ready 

When  thy  voice  is  truly  heard, 
With  obedience  glad  and  steady, 

Still  to  follow  every  word. 
I  am  listening:,  Lord,  for  thee; 
Master,  speak,  0  speak  to  me  1 " 

ft  T  SUPPOSE  it  is  one  of  His  mysterious 
_L  ways,"  said  Frank,  thoughtfully.  She 
stood  by  the  open  window,  Frank  Farington, 
with  her  troubled  face  and  serious  eyes,  look- 
ing idly  away  to  the  sunlit  hills,  her  perplexed 
and  yearning  gaze  taking  no  note  of  the  Octo- 
ber splendor  that  brooded  so  richly  over  all  the 
world. 

She  was  questioning,  in  an  impatient  way, 
why  God  does  not  speak  to  his  servants  now,  as 
he  did  in  ancient  times ;  why  he  leaves  them  so 
often  in  doubt  and  perplexity,  with  no  star  to 
beckon  them  through  the  mist  of  uncertainty. 


6  SMALL  THINGS. 

All  day  she  had  been  asking,  "  Lord,  what 
wilt  thou.  have  me  to  do  ? "  but  he  had  given 
her  no  answer  and  no  sign. 

The  mail  that  morning  had  brought  two  let- 
ters. One  offered  her  a  fine  position  in  the 
graded  school  at  Millerton,  the  other  was  an 
urgent  invitation  from  her  Aunt  Laura  to  spend 
the  winter  at  her  delightful  home  in  "Washing- 
ton. Had  either  of  these  proposals  come  to  her 
separately,  she  would  have  seized  upon  it  with 
great  eagerness  as  an  answer  to  the  petition  that 
had  been  going  up  from  her  heart  to  God  for 
many  months,  that  he  would  open  a  way  for 
her  into  something  better  than  the  aimless  life 
of  this  summer  had  been.  But  before  these 
two  ways,  which  he  had  opened  so  suddenly, 
she  stood  bewildered.  Had  it  been  a  question 
of  self-gratification  the  choice  would  have  been 
an  easy  one. 

Aunt  Laura  was  very  lonesome,  she  had  writ- 
ten. "  Since  Louise  was  married  and  gone  to 
brighten  another  home,  the  light  had  gone  out 
of  the  home  she  had  left.  If  Frank  would  come, 
she  should  have  all  the  advantages  which  a  win- 
ter in  Washington  affords."  It  was  very  tempt- 
ing to  the  country  girl,  just  escaped  from  the 


FRANK'S  DECISION-.  7 

confinement  of  school  life,  animated,  and  eager 
for  new  things. 

But  on  the  other  hand  was  the  school.  She 
had  always  intended  to  teach.  It  was  the  ob- 
ject to  which  she  had  been  directing  all  her  en- 
ergies since  her  fifteenth  year.  She  was  twenty 
now.  If  only  Aunt  Laura  had  not  written, 
then  she  would  have  known  what  was  God's 
will. 

But  Aunt  Laura  needed  her.  She  was  miss- 
ing her  young  daughter  sorely.  Winsome 
Louise  had  been  so  much  to  her  mother.  "  It 
would  be  a  trial  to  any  one  to  lose  Louise  Suth- 
erland who  had  ever  had  her.  I  could  never 
take  her  place,"  sighed  Frank,  "  but  I  might  be 
a  little  comfort." 

There  was  a  shout  and  a  laugh  in  the  street, 
and  the  sound  of  bounding  feet.  The  children 
were  coming  home  from  school.  Frank  watched 
them  with  a  half  smile.  How  short  the  time 
seemed  since  she  was  a  little  girl  running  home 
from  that  same  old  school.  O  what  a  happy 
time  it  had  been!  Why  couldn't  one  always 
stay  a  child  ?  There  were  no  cares,  no  perplex- 
ities, no  worries,  no  longings  in  the  child-world. 
It  was  hard  to  grow  up. 


8  SMALL  THINGS. 

"  Frank,"  called  her  mother,  "  come  down, 
dear ;  Mrs.  Mason  is  here." 

"  O  dear ! "  she  sighed,  as  she  smoothed  her 
hair  and  dress  and  went  down. 

Mrs.  Mason  was  one  of  the  wealthy  ladies  in 
her  father's  congregation.  She  was  little  and 
fussy  and  overdressed.  She  had  a  way,  Frank 
thought,  of  making  every  one  feel  uncomforta- 
ble in  her  presence.  She  looked  up  now.  as  the 
minister's  daughter  entered,  and  gave  her  a  long 
stare,  taking  in  every  detail,  from  her  head  to 
her  feet.  What  she  saw  was  a  slight,  very 
slight  figure,  in  a  white  dress,  \vith  pale  blue  rib- 
bons knotted  in  the  hair  and  at  the  throat.  The 
eyes'  were  gray,  with  long  lashes,  which  made 
them  black  in  the  shade ;  the  brown  hair  waved 
softly  over  a  forehead  too  high  for  beauty,  the 
skin  was  fair,  with  a  color  that  came  and  went, 
and  the  mouth  was  lovely. 

All  this  Mrs.  Mason  saw,  and  with  a  glance 
at  the  little  white  hands,  did  not  seem  alto- 
gether pleased. 

"You  have  been  away  a  long  time,  Miss 
Frank,"  was  her  first  remark. 

"  Eight  years.     I  was  twelve  when  I  went." 

"  Have  you  been  in  school  all  the  time  I " 


FRANK'S  DECISION.  9 

"  Yes.  I  was  three  years  in  a  select  school 
and  live  at  Mrs.  Leroy's  seminary  for  young 
ladies." 

"  You  have  been  highly  favored.  I  never 
had  any  such  advantages  when  I  was  young.  I 
should  think  you  would  feel  everlastingly  in- 
debted to  your  uncle.  Did  you  not  consider  it 
your  duty  to  devote  your  whole  life  to  him? " 

"  Dear  Uncle  Ralph  never  needed  me.  lie 
died  when  I  was  in  my  third  year  at  the  sem- 
inary." 

"  Ah,  indeed  !  I  was  not  aware  of  it.  What 
are  you  going  to  do  now?  Can  you  content 
yourself  here  ? " 

"  I'm  afraid  not,"  said  Mrs.  Farington,  with 
a  soft  laugh  ;  "  she  never  was  a  home  girl. 
Think  of  her  staying  away  eight  years  !  " 

"  Did  you  never  get  homesick  ? "  asked  Mrs. 
Mason. 

"  At  first,  yes ;  but  Canada  is  so  far  away, 
and  papa  and  mamma  came  to  see  me  twice.  I 
was  too  busy  to  think  of  home." 

"  Have  you  thought  of  teaching  ? " 

"  It  has  been  my  heart's  desire  and  decided 
intention  for  years." 

"  "Well,  I  think  you  had  better  stay  at  home 


10  SMALL  THINGS. 

and  take  care  of  your  mother.  She  has  looked 
worn-out  all  summer.  The  world  is  too  full  of 
teachers  now  :  and  there  is  your  sister.  Mamie 
must  be  fourteen  ? " 

"  She  is  fifteen." 

"  Indeed !  She  will  be  wanting  to  try  her 
wings  before  long.  Don't  you  go  to  looking 
up  a  school,  Frank.  You  are  wanted  right  here 
in  Crescent." 

Mrs.  Farington  changed  the  subject,  and  the 
visitor  rattled  on ;  but  Frank  heard  no  more. 
Those  last  words  kept  repeating  themselves  : 
"  You  are  wanted  right  here  in  Crescent." 
"Was  it  the  voice  of  God  ?  Had  he  spoken 
through  such  very  careless  lips  ?  Did  he  ever 
speak  thus  ?  She  almost  smiled  at  the  thought 
of  Mrs.  Mason  as  God's  messenger,  and  yet  it 
was  possible.  She  had  asked  him  that  after- 
noon to  send  some  one  to  tell  her  what  to  do. 
Mrs.  Mason  had  told  her.  Had  he  sent  her? 
She  drew  a  sigh  of  relief  as  the  lady  took  her 
departure. 

"  Mamie,  I  wish  you  would  run  over  to  the 
post  office  ;  I  think  the  evening  mail  is  in,"  said 
her  mother  to  the  young  girl,  who  entered  nois- 
ily, with  a  pile  of  school-books. 


FRANK'S  DECISION.  11 

The  fair  face  twisted  into  a  frown. 

"  Mamma,  I  can't ;  I'm  going  to  ride  with 
Fan  Lewis." 

"  My  dear,  I  wish  you  wouldn't.  That  horse 
isn't  fit  for  a  child  like  Fanny  to  drive.  I  can- 
not see  why  her  father  allows  it.  I  suppose — " 

"  There's  no  supposing  in  the  case,  mamma. 
I'm  going.  Papa  said  I  could." 

She  ran  out,  sprang  into  the  low  phaeton 
which  was  waiting  at  the  door,  and  was  off  be- 
fore the  timid  mother  could  remonstrate. 

Frank  quickly  noticed  the  anxious  look  that 
crept  into  her  mother's  eyes.  She  saw  also  how 
pale  and  worn  her  face  was,  the  face  that  used 
to  be  so  fresh  and  rosy. 

"  Shall  I  go  for  the  mail  ? "  she  asked. 

"  If  you  have  time ;  it  will  save  papa  the 
trouble.  lie  will  be  tired  when  he  comes 
home.  Take  a  shawl,  it  is  getting  cool." 

Frank  walked  slowly.  The  air  was  delicious. 
There  was  a  crimson  and  golden  light  on  the 
hills  as  the  sun  touched  them  with  its  parting 
glow.  The  streets  were  ablaze  with  golden 
maples.  She  stooped  to  pick  a  leaf  now  and 
then  abstractedly.  "  Eight  here  in  Crescent," 
something  kept  repeating.  Why  did  the  voice 


12  SMALL  THINGS. 

jar  so?  It  was  a  beautiful  village.  It  was  a 
lively,  wide-awake  flourishing  village.  It  con- 
tained all  she  loved  most  on  earth.  Why,  then, 
did  she  shrink  so  from  the  voice  that  bade  her 
stay  in  Crescent  ?  Why,  because,  in  her  youth 
and  inexperience,  she  had  been  dreaming  golden 
dreams  of  some  great  and  good  work  which  she 
would  accomplish  when  her  school  days  would 
be  over,  and  she  should  be  ready  for  the  battle 
of  life.  Precisely  what  that  work  was  to  be 
she  could  not  have  told,  but  she  had  vague  ideas 
of  filling  her  life  up  to  its  fullest  extent  with 
usefulness — of  glorifying  God,  and  benefiting 
his  creatures.  Every  talent  which  had  been 
committed  to  her  she  had  designed  to  cultivate 
and  enrich  until  she  became  like  a  corner-stone, 
"  polished  after  the  similitude  of  a  palace."  And 
now  this  was  to  be  the  end  of  her  dreams! 
She  would  settle  down  in  the  country  village. 
She  would  help  her  mother  with  the  house- 
work. She  would  darn  stockings  and  make 
shirts.  She  would  entertain  the  numerous  call- 
ers at  the  parsonage.  She  would  attend  the 
weekly  prayer-meeting.  She  would  teach  a 
class  in  Sunday-school.  In  short,  she  would  be 
just  like  all  the  other  young  ladies  in  Crescent. 


FRANK'S  DECISION.  13 

Well,  what  of  it,  after  all  ?  Could  she  not  glo- 
rify God  in  a  quiet  life  I  They  did  need  her 
at  home.  Once  suggested,  the  fact  was  plain 
enough.  Her  father  was  growing  old.  She 
had  noticed  last  night  how  gray  his  hair  was, 
and  how  deep  the  lines  had  grown  in  his  fore- 
head. And  her  mother,  one  had  only  to  glance 
at  her  to  see  the  weariness  that  had  come  over 
her,  and  the  anxiety,  and  the  worry.  Then  there 
were  her  sister  and  brother.  She  had  scarcely 
given  them  a  thought  before.  Mamie  was  grow- 
ing up  wild,  reckless,  and  often  openly  disobe- 
dient. Warren,  she  remembered  now,  she  had  not 
thought  of  it  before,  how  late  he  came  in  at  night, 
and  how  rude  and  ungentlemanly  were  his  man- 
ners! She  had  seen  her  father  look  at  him  with 
such  an  anxious  yearning  in  his  eyes.  Did 
Warren  need  her  ? — idle,  careless,  mischievous, 
pestering  Warren.  There  was  very  little  love 
in  her  heart  for  her  young  brother. 

Among  the  other  letters  which  she  found  at 
the  post-office  was  one  from  her  cousin  Louise. 
She  read  and  re-read  it  as  she  walked  home.  It 
was  full  of  temptation,  picturing,  as  only  Louise 
Sutherland's  happy  pen  could  picture,  all  the 
delights  which  awaited  her  at  Washington. 


14  SMALL  THINGS. 

Frank  sighed  as  she  crushed  the  letter  in  her 
pocket.  She  knew  it  all  too  well.  Why,  Aunt 
Laura's  very  companionship  was  education  ;  and 
besides,  she  needed  her.  Perhaps,  after  all,  that 
was  what  God  meant.  There  must  not  be  the 
possibility  of  a  mistake. 

It  was  growing  dark  when  she  reached  the 
parsonage.  The  light  from  the  study  lamp 
streamed  out  over  the  lawn.  Frank  stepped 
upon  the  piazza  and  looked  in  at  the  open 
window.  Her  father  stood  by  his  desk,  leaning 
his  head  upon  his  hand. 

"  What  is  troubling  you,  dearest  ? "  his  wife 
asked  as  she  entered  softly.  His  face,  as  he 
raised  it,  was  haggard. 

"  It  is  our  boy,  Alice,"  he  said,  falteringly. 
"  I  met  him  this  afternoon  driving  with  some 
young  men,  and — he  had  been  drinking  deeply. 
I  had  not  intended  to  tell  you  this,"  he  added,  as 
he  folded  her  in  his  arms  as  he  spoke.  "  O  my 
son !  my  son  ! " 

Frank  crossed  the  hall  and  went  up  stairs 
with  a  slow,  firm  step.  She  had  decided ;  she 
would  stay  in  Crescent. 


ACTING.  15 


II. 

ACTING. 

"  If  thou  hast  friends,  give  them  thy  best  endeavor, 
Thy  warmest  impulse,  and  thy  purest  thought." 

K  r\  OME  and  take  a  walk  with  me." 

\J  Frank  was  sitting  in  a  low  rocking- 
chair  upon  the  piazza,  under  the  shadow  of  the 
woodbine,  darning  stockings.  The  voice  start- 
led her,  arid  she  looked  up  to  behold  a  tall, 
graceful  girl,  in  a  brown  walking-suit,  leaning 
upon  the  gate. 

u  Why,  Nel  Lewis,  do  you  tread  upon  air  ? 
Come  in." 

"  No.  I  must  walk  a  mile  every  day  for  my 
health,  father  says.  I  hate  to  walk  alone.  Put 
on  your  hat  and  come  along." 

"  Wait  until  I  finish  this  sock,"  laughed 
Frank. 

"  Do  you  know  what  a  picture  you  are,  with 
the  shadow  of  those  red  leaves  on  your  white 
dress  ?  Why  do  you  always  wear  white  ?" 

"  I  don't  know.     I  always  have.     I  love  it." 


16  SMALL  T JUNGS. 

"  Do  you  like  to  darn  stockings  ? " 

"  Like  it !     Do  you  like  to  take  medicine  ? " 

"  I  don't  see  what  that  has  to  do  with  it ; 
darning  stockings  isn't  taking  medicine." 

"  Isn't  it  ?  It  is  very  good  for  a  tit  of  the 
heroics.  Nothing  brings  one  down  from  the 
clouds  more  quickly." 

"  How  queer  you  are  !  If  I  ever  got  up  in 
the  clouds  I'd  stay  there ;  the  trouble  is  I  can't 
rise.  I  am  of  the  earth,  earthy." 

"  The  earth  is  an  excellent  place  to  live  in. 
There,  I've  finished  it.  Now  I  must  hide  this 
basket  or  mamma  will  find  it  and  deprive  me  of 
the  pleasure  of  doing  the  rest." 

She  ran  in  and  re-appeared  in  a  moment  with 
a  white  shawl  upon  her  arm. 

"  Well,  which  way,  Nel  ? " 

"  O  I'm  going  out  of  town  to  the  old  chestnut- 
trees.  I  want  to  talk  to  you,  Frank.  I  must 
tell  some  one  or  I  shall  die.  We  used  t®  be 
such  good  friends  in  the  old  school  days. 
Don't  you  wish  we  could  go  back  again  and  be 
little  girls  ?  If  I  could  enjoy  things  as  I  used 
to,  such  little  things,  I'd  be  willing  to  go  to 
school  through  all  time  and  all  eternity." 

"  O,  Nel !  would  you  condemn  yourself  to 


ACTING.  17 

eternal  babyhood  ?  Don't  you  think  it  would 
be  rather  monotonous  ?  It  is  a  good  thing  to 
grow  up." 

"  Is  it  ?  I  haven't  found  it  so.  It's  been 
nothing  but  trouble,  trouble,  trouble  ever  since 
I  was  sixteen.  I  wish  I  had  died  when  my 
mother  did." 

"  I  wouldn't  say  that.  What  is  the  trouble  ? 
You  ought  to  be  perfectly  happy." 

"  Happy  !     Can  I  trust  you,  Frank  ? " 

Frank  turned  her  clear,  dark  gaze  full  upon 
her  companion. 

"  You  can  trust  me,"  she  said. 

"  I  thought  so.  I  have  often  longed  for  you 
to  come  home.  Did  you  ever  have  a  lover, 
Frank?" 

Frank  laughed. 

"  .No.  I  didn't  know  I  was  old  enough  for 
such  things." 

"  Not  old  enough  !  Why,  you  are  as  old  as  I 
am." 

"I  am  a  month  older;  but  remember,  my 
school  days  are  only  just  behind." 

"  Why,  I  had  lovers  when  I  was  fourteen." 

"  So  much  the  worse  for  you.  At  that  time 
you  should  have  been  engaged  in  a  mental 


18  SMALL  THINGS. 

discipline  which  would  have  made  you  fit  to 
receive  a  good  man's  love  when  it  was  offered." 

"  Frank  Farington,  you  talk  like  your  father. 
Do  you  love  your  father  ? " 

"  Nel,  are  you  crazy  ?  Why  should  I  not  love 
my  father  ? " 

"  I  don't  know.     I  hate  mine." 

A  hard,  stern  look  settled  over  Frank's  beau- 
tiful mouth,  and  she  walked  on  in  grim  si- 
lence. 

"  "Well,  why  don't  you  say  something  ? "  asked 
!Nel,  impatiently. 

"  I  have  nothing  to  say  to  any  one  who  hates 
her  father." 

"  See  here ;  suppose  your  father  had  taken 
away  all  your  happiness  and  condemned  you  to 
a  long  misery,  would  you  love  him  ? " 

"  I  think  so.  I  should  know  he  did  it  for 
my  best  good." 

"It  is  very  easy  to  talk  in  that  way  when 
you've  never  been  tried.  "Wait  until  your  fa- 
ther refuses  to  let  you  hold  any  intercourse  with 
some  one  you  love  with  all  your  heart.  Wait 
until  he  sets  his  foot  down  upon  you  in  that 
way,  and  see  if  you'll  think  he  is  doing  it  for 
your  best  good." 


ACTING.  10 

"  One  thing  I  am  sure  of,  Nel.  My  father 
would  never  thwart  my  wishes  in  such  a  matter 
for  his  own  pleasure,  nor  would  yours.  Are 
you  really  sure  that  your  lover  is  worthy  of 
you,  Nel?" 

"  I  am  sure  that  he  is  very  dear  to  me." 

"  Is  he  pure  in  his  life  and  character,  upright 
and  honorable  in  all  his  dealings  ?  Do  I  know 
him?" 

u  You  know  him — Howard  Delano." 

"Ah!" 

She  did  know  him.  The  most  reckless,  dissi- 
pated, profane  young  man  in  Crescent ! 

"  Because  he  is  thoughtless,  and  inclined  to 
be  a  little  fast,  father  thinks  he  is  a  confirmed 
drunkard  and  a  hopeless  case." 

"  Well,  has  he  not  a  habit  of  becoming  in- 
toxicated ? " 

"  People  say  so ;  but  what  of  it  ?  All  young 
men  of  his  gay  disposition  will  be  a  little  wild 
occasionally.  He  will  settle  down  when  we  are 
married." 

"  Don't  build  any  hopes  on  that ;  if  he  doesn't 
love  you  well  enough  to  settle  down  now,  he 
never  will.  Can't  you  give  him  up  ? " 

"  I  suppose  I'll  have  to.     Father  is  dreadful. 


20  SMALL  THINGS. 

He  said  last  night  if  I  ever  spoke  to  Howard 
Delano  again  he  would  disown  me  and  turn  me 
out  of  the  house.  Think  of  it,  Frank !  " 

"  Yes,  I  do  think  of  it,  and  I  think  that  some 
day  you  will  bless  your  father  for  this." 

"  But  how  am  I  going  to  live  ?  You  never 
loved  any  one  like  this.  Frank,  you  don't  un- 
derstand." 

"  I  think  I  do.  It  is  hard.  "We  must  all 
meet  hard  things  in  this  life.  It  is  the  weari- 
some drill  and  the  battle  that  make  the  good 
soldier." 

"  O  yes,  I  know  all  that,  but  it  don't  help  me 
any.  What  will  ? " 

"  Well,  suppose  you  try  to  think  of  something 
in  the  world  besides  Howard  Delano.  Be  a 
comfort  to  your  father.  He  looks  as  if  he 
needed  a  helper." 

'•  Well,  he'll  never  find  it  in  me.  What 
else?" 

"  There  is  Fanny.  She  has  no  mother.  She 
needs  an  older  sister." 

"  For  pity's  sake,  don't  throw  Fan  Lewis  up 
to  me !  She's  past  help,  and  you  had  better  not 
talk  about  it  either,  for  every  one  says  your 
Mamie  is  the  worst  of  the  two.  and  leads  Fan 


ACTING.  21 

into  all  kinds  of  mischief;  a  minister's  daugh- 
ter, too ! " 

"  Yes,  I  know  it ;  Mamie  needs  a  vast  deal  of 
polishing  before  she  will  become  lovely.  Can't 
we  help  our  sisters  ? " 

"  I  don't  know.  There's  not  much  hope  for 
my  sister,  I  guess.  What  else  ? " 

"Well,  here  are  all  the  young  people  in 
Crescent.  They  all  need  us." 

"  Pshaw !  you  don't  know  any  thing  about 
them.  There  are  no  young  ladies  worth  speak- 
ing of,  and  the  young  men  are  horrid.  Father 
says  there  is  not  a  manly  man  among  them/' 

"  Then  we  have  a  wide  field,  Nel.  Let  us 
make  them  manly." 

"  How  ?     We  can't  run  after  them." 

••  Xo,  but  we  can  throw  a  pure  influence  over 
them  whenever  we  come  in  contact  with  them, 
and  that  must  necessarily  be  often.  Let  them 
see  that  we  have  no  toleration  for  their  vices, 
and  they  may  be  led  to  abandon  them.  If  they 
see  that  we  have  a  great  contempt  for  what  is 
dishonorable  and  impure,  I  think  they  will  be 
ashamed  of  such  things  in  themselves.  I  be- 
lieve a  right-minded  Christian  young  woman 
has  a  powerful  influence  over  wayward  young 


22  SMALL  THINGS. 

men  if  she  exerts  it.  It  is  worth  trying  any 
way." 

"Well,  there  may  be  something  in  that, 
though  my  faith  is  small.  I  remember  hearing 
your  father  say, '  If  the  young  women  of  a  place 
are  true  women  the  young  men  will  be  true 
men.'  I  hope  you  are  not  going  away  again, 
Frank?" 

"  Not  now.  There  is  work  for  me  to  do  in 
Crescent,  I  see." 

"  Make  me  a  part  of  your  work,  wont  you  ? " 

"  No  ;  I'll  make  you  my  helper." 

When  Nel  reached  home  that  night  she  did 
not  go  to  her  room  and  cry  as  usual ;  instead, 
she  fastened  a  scarlet  geranium  in  her  hair,  and 
went  down  and  arranged  a  tempting  dish  for 
her  father's  supper.  Fan  came  rushing  in  at 
dark  in  her  boisterous  way. 

"  Nel,  pa  won't  let  me  go  to  the  circus  to- 
night !  Isn't  he  too  mean  ?  'Most  all  the  girls 
are  going.  It's  just  hateful." 

"  I  wouldn't  say  so,  Fan.  Pa  gets  tired  rid- 
ing all  day ;  a  doctor's  life  is  hard.  Let's  make 
him  happier,  and  then  he  wont  be  so  cross.  I 
wouldn't  go  to  the  circus  if  I  could." 

When    Dr.    Lewis    came    home    he    found 


ACTING.  23 

bright  faces  and  laughter  instead  of  frowns  and 
sighs. 

"  Nellie  is  growing  like  her  mother,"  he  said 
to  himself. 

So  these  people  were  happier  that  night  be- 
cause Frank  Farington  stayed  in  Crescent. 


SMALL  THINGS. 


III. 
THE  RAINY  DAT. 

"  We  sometimes  wonder  why  our  Lord  doth  place  us 

Within  a  sphere  so  narrow,  so  obscure, 
That  nothing  we  call  work  can  find  an  entrance ; 

There's  only  room  to  sufler,  to  endure." 

M  TF  there's  any  thing  I   hate  it's   a  rainy 

JL  day ! "  said  Mamie. 

She  was  standing  before  the  fire  with  a  brown 
vail  tied  over  her  hat,  and  her  long  light  curls 
falling  in  a  shining  mass  over  her  water-proof 
cloak. 

"  And  I  love  a  rainy  day,"  said  Frank,  think- 
ing of  the  long,  quiet,  undisturbed  hours  that 
were  before  her. 

"  Well,  perhaps  it  wouldn't  be  so  bad  if  one 
could  stay  at  home  all  day.  Think  of  that  long 
walk  to  school,  and  Miss  Monroe  is  always 
dreadful  on  a  rainy  day.  She's  horrid  every 
day.  They  say  she  lost  her  lover  three  or  four 
years  ago.  I  wish  he'd  lived  and  spared  us  the 
infliction.  I  guess  he  must  have  died  in.  a 
storm.  She's  always  uglier  when  it  rains." 


THE  RAINY  DAY.  25 

"  Don't  be  heartless,  Mamie.  Can't  you  do 
some  kind  thing  for  Miss  Monroe  to-day  ? 
Promise  me." 

"  I  can't  promise,"  laughed  Mamie,  taking  up 
her  strap  of  books.  "My,  how  it  rains!  and 
sure  as  you  live,  Frank,  here  comes  Miss  Sa- 
repta  to  spend  the  day  !  You  wont  get  clear  of 
her  till  dark,  you  can  depend  on  that.  Ma's 
gone  to  bed  with  her  headache,  and  pa's  writing. 
You'll  have  her  on  your  hands.  Ha,  ha,  I  don't 
envy  you  your  rainy  day,  Miss  Frances." 

She  ran  out,  laughing  and  bowing  to  the  old 
lady  at  the  gate.  Frank  sat  still,  the  color  boiling 
into  her  cheeks.  Was  ever  any  thing  more  vex- 
atious ?  All  her  plans  for  the  day  were  upset. 
Instead  of  the  literary  and  musical  feast  which 
she  had  promised  herself,  she  must  sit  down  and 
entertain  a  tiresome  old  woman.  She  watched 
the  bent  form  as  it  came  feebly  up  the  steps. 
Perhaps  the  dear  Lord  was  sending  one  of  his 
weary  disciples  to  her  for  a  cup  of  cold  water. 
The  thought  was  so  delightful  that  she  met  the 
old  lady  at  the  door  with  a  bright  smile  of  wel- 
come. 

"  Come  right  by  the  fire,  Miss  Sarepta,"  she 
said,  cheerily.  "  How  wet  you  are  !  "  and  she 


26  SMALL  THINGS. 

helped  the  fumbling  fingers  to  undo  her 
wraps. 

"  La,  Frankie,  now  don't  bother.  I  thought 
to  myself  this  mornin'  as  I  was  eatin'  my  break- 
fast as  how  maybe  I'd  better  run  over  and  see 
the  dominie's  folks  for  a  spell.  It's  sort  o'  lone- 
some-like  to  home  such  dark-like  days.  How's 
your  pa,  dear,  and  your  ma  ? " 

"  Mamma  has  one  of  her  sick  headaches  to- 
day. Papa  is  well,  but  he  is  busy  with  his  ser- 
mon this  morning,  so  we  will  have  to  excuse 
them.  "We'll  have  a  nice  quiet  time  by  our- 
selves until  dinner-time,  then  they  will  both  be 
able  to  join  us,  I  hope.  Sit  here  in  the  rocking- 
chair  by  the  window  and  you  can  see  the  people 
go  by." 

Having  made  the  old  lady  comfortable,  she 
brought  out  her  work — she  was  knitting  a  blue 
jacket  for  Mamie — and  drew  up  her  low  chair 
near  Miss  Sarepta's. 

"  Now,  we'll  have  a  nice  morning  to  knit," 
she  said,  brightly.  "  Are  you  sure  you  are 
thoroughly  dry  ? " 

"O,  yes,  I'm  as  cozy  as  can  be.  Going  to 
school  haint  spoiled  you  a  mite,  Frankie. 
Some  of  'em  does  come  home  with  the  curiosest 


Tin;  KALXY  DAY.  27 

notions  in  their  heads.  Girls  haint  like  what 
they  used  to  be.  They  think  they  mustn't  do 
nothin'  but  tinkle  on  a  pianny  and  walk  the 
streets  iii  flounces  and  furbelows.  Can  you 
play,  dear?" 

"  Yes.  I  will  play  and  sing  for  you  when 
you  want  me  to.  I  love  music,  don't  you  ? " 

"  Yes,  if  it's  the  right  kind ;  but  most  of  'em 
plays  sich  rattlin'  tilings,  I  can't  make  no  sense 
of  it.  That  was  Mamie  I  met  at  the  door,  I 
ppose  ?  Land  alive,  how  that  child  does  grow  ! 
Why,  she's  taller  than  you  a' ready.  You  al- 
ways was  a  little  mite.  Mamie's  wild,  aint 
she  ?  I  thought  she  kinder  tried  to  poke  a  lit- 
tle fun  at  me  this  mornin'.  I've  ketched  her 
at  it  before." 

"  I  guess  you  are  mistaken.  Mamie  is  very 
thoughtless ;  she  laughs  at  every  thing,  but  I 
don't  believe  she  would  willingly  hurt  any  one's 
feelings." 

"•  That's  it ;  there's  nothin'  hurts  an  old  per- 
son more  than  to  be  laughed  and  sneered  at  by 
the  young.  Is  your  pa's  health  pretty  good 
now,  Frankie  ? " 

"  lie  doesn't  seem  very  strong.  Sometimes 
I  think  he  studies  too  hard." 


28  SMALL  THINGS. 

"  Law,  now,  may  be  it's  that !  Folks  do  say 
he's  worried  to  death  about  Warren.  lie's  got 
into  bad  ways,  "Warren  has.  Why,  lust  night  I 
saw  him  drivin'  past  with  that  young  Delano ; 
he's  the  worst  young  fellow  in  town  every  body 
says,  and  they  were  smokin'  and  singin'  and 
laughin,'  and  I'm  a  little  afraid  they  had  been 
drinkin'.  Don't  you  think  Warren  worries  your 
pa  some,  Frankie  ? " 

"  I'm  afraid  he  does,  but  we're  going  to  do 
all  we  can  to  save  Warren ;  and  you'll  help,  too, 
when  you  have  a  chance,  wont  you,  Miss  Sa- 
repta  ? " 

"  Law,  yes.  There  haint  nothin'  I  wouldn't 
do  for  your  pa — he's  a  blessed  man.  He  seems 
to  get  nearer  heaven  every  Sunday.  I  wonder 
if  he's  been  to  see  Lily  Sherwood  lately.  They 
say  that  girl's  dying  with  consumption.  I  don't 
believe  it.  I  believe  she's  just  dying  for  that 
Dr.  Yail  that  boards  there.  Do  you  know  Dr. 
Vail,  Frankie  ? " 

''•  O  yes  !  I'm  well  acquainted  with  him." 

The  beautiful  color  flushed  her  cheek  as  she 
spoke,  and  the  keen  old  eyes  observed  it. 

"  Folks  say  he's  a  flirt,"  she  went  on,  "  but  I 
don't  believe  it.  He's  a  nice  young  man  as  ever 


THE  RAINY  DAT.  29 

lived.  He  came  to  see  me  twice  a  day  last  fall 
when  I  Lad  the  fever,  and  never  charged  me  a 
cent.  I  wonder  if  he  will  marry  Lily  ?  Do  you 
suppose  it  will  break  her  heart  if  he  don't  ? " 

"  Not  much  danger,"  laughed  Frank.  "Hearts 
don't  break  so  easily." 

"  May  be  not.  Has  that  young  Sherwood  been 
here  lately  ? '' 

"  Max  ?  Yes,  he  was  here  last  night,"  was 
the  innocent  reply. 

"  Was  he  ?  "Well,  now,  I  don't  know  as  I 
ought  to  tell  you,  but  they  say  he  was  engaged 
to  Belle  Wentworth  before  you  came  home ; 
but  now  he's  after  you  ;  he's  jilted  Belle  out 
and  out.  May  be  you  knew  it.  Do  you  like 
hi. n?" 

"  Well  enough ;  I  have  never  thought  much 
about  it.  Have  you  got  entirely  over  your 
cough,  Miss  Sarepta  ? " 

"  Law,  yes!  Dr.  Lewis,  he  cured  that.  He's 
a  nice  man,  Dr.  Lewis  is.  It's  a  pity  them  girls 
of  his  are  growin'  up  so  wild.  Nellie's  been  run- 
ning with  Howard  Delano.  They  say  the  doctor's 
put  a  stop  1o  it ;  I  don't  know.  It's  a  pity  their 
mother  had'nt  lived.  She  was  a  grand  woman, 
Mrs.  Lewis  was;  the  girls  don't  take  after  her  a 


30  SMALL  THINGS. 

bit.  They  say  Bert  "Went worth's  after  Nellie, 
too.  I  don't  see  what  they  all  see  in  her.  She's 
no  beauty  to  speak  of.  Have  you  met  the  new 
Congregational  minister,  Frankief  lie's  hand- 
some as  a  picture.  You'd  better  set  your  cap 
for  him.  You  and  him  would  make  a  good 
match." 

This  last  was  too  much  for  Frank.  She  set 
her  lips  tight  to  keep  back  the  laugh  that  was 
bubbling  over  them. 

"  If  you  will  excuse  me  for  a  while  I  will  see 
about  dinner,  and  after  that  we'll  have  some 
music,"  she  said,  rising  and  folding  up  her 
work. 

"  Certainly ;  don't  let  me  hinder  you  about 
any  thing.  I  like  to  sit  here  and  look  out  into 
the  street." 

As  Frank  passed  in  and  out  she  heard  the 
old  lady  singing  softly,  in  her  broken  voice, 

"  Thy  walls  are  all  of  precious  stones?, 
Thy  bulwarks,  diamond  squares." 

""What  a  mixing  up  of  subjects,"  thought 
Frank,  smiling,  "  match-making,  gossip,  and  the 
golden  streets  of  the  ~New  Jerusalem."  And 
yet  the  combination  was  not  so  strange  after 


THE  RAINY  DAY.  31 

all,  when  we  consider  how  nearly  the  two  worlds 
touch  each  other. 

After  dinner  Mrs.  Farington  took  the  visitor 
to  her  own  room,  and  Frank  was  at  liberty  once 
more.  She  brought  her  writing-desk  to  the 
cozy  nook  in  the  window-seat,  and  commenced  a 
letter  to  Aunt  Laura.  At  that  moment  the 
door-bell  rang.  Frank  sighed  disconsolately  as 
ghe  went  to  answer  it,  but  her  face  brightened 
when  she  saw  who  the  visitor  was. 

"  Dr.  Tail !     O,  I  am  glad  to  see  yon! " 
"  Thanks.     That  sounds  genuine.     Somehow 
I  couldn't  get  past   this  house  to-day.      Some- 
thing unseen  kept  urging  me  in.     Is  any  body 

Sick  ?  " 

"  Nobody,"  she  laughed.  "  Mamma  had  a 
sick  headache  this  morning,  but  it  has  passed 
away;  the  rest  are  well." 

"It  must  have  been  some  other  attraction 
then.  How  cozy  you  are  here  !  It  is  like  com- 
ing out  of  storm  into  sunshine." 

He  took  off  his  wet  overcoat  and  threw  it 
over  a  chair. 

"  I've  had  the  dumps  all  day,  have  you  I ''  lie 
asked. 

"Xo.     I've  been  too  busy." 


32  SMALL  THINGS. 

"Doing  what  ?" 

"  O,  talking  to  Miss  Sarepta  Smith,  and  get- 
ting dinner." 

"  Ah !  talking  to  Miss  Sarepta  isn't  such  hard 
work.  She  does  the  talking  mostly  herself  I've 
noticed.  I've  been  busier  than  that,  and  yet  I've 
had  the  doldrums." 

"  I  don't  see  why ;  if  I  had  your  life  to  live, 
I  could  be  very  happy,  I  think." 

"Why?" 

"Because  I  would  have  such  a  splendid  op- 
portunity to  make  the  world  better  for  my  living 
in  it." 

"  Can't  you  do  that  in  your  own  life  ?  " 

"  O,  yes,  in  a  small  way ;  but  I  want  to  do 
great  things." 

"Don't  try  to  be  any  different,  or  you  will 
spoil  yourself.  You  are  in  just  the  right  place 
now.  You  are  a  sunbeam,  Miss  Farington  ; 
there  is  an  atmosphere  of  health  and  happiness 
about  you  which  refreshes  one  unconsciously. 
Your  presence  is  restful  when  all  is  weary." 

"  There,  don't  add  any  thing  to  that.  You've 
said  just  the  nicest  thing  you  could.  Nothing 
could  be  a  greater  compliment." 

Dr.  Vail  arose  and  walked  up  and  down  the 


THE  RAINY  DAY.  33 

room  abstractedly.  Frank  watched  him,  won- 
dering a  little ;  that  harassed  look  and  pre- 
occupied manner  sat  strangely  upon  him.  He 
was  usually  all  life  and  animation. 

"  Miss  Frank,"  he  said,  pausing  suddenly  and 
looking  down  upon  her  from  his  fine  height, 
'"  have  you  the  patience  to  listen  to  a  love  story  ?" 
"  If  I  had  not  I  would  not  be  a  woman." 
"  Listen,  then.  Once  upon  a  time,  as  the 
children  say,  there  was  a  poor  young  man,  with 
only  a  comparative  degree  of  brains,  who  had 
his  own  way  to  make  in  the  world  and  was  pos- 
sessed of  a  natural  ambition  to  be  somebody. 
"Well,  it  happened,  through  no  fault  of  any 
body's,  that  he  was  thrown  by  circumstances 
constantly  in  the  society  of  a  very  fair  and  love- 
ly young  lady.  The  young  man,  never  having 
been  blest  with  a  sister,  came  to  regard  this  lady 
with  a  brotherly  affection.  lie  paid  her  many 
small  attentions,  trifles  light  as  air  to  him,  until 
suddenly  he  discovered,  to  his  utter  dismay  and 
confusion,  that  for  this  sounding  brass  she  had 
given  him  pure  gold,  that  is,  her  heart.  Now 
the  question  is.  What  shall  my  friend  do?  Shall 
he  marry  this  lady,  knowing  that  the  only 
love  he  has  to  bestow  upon  her  is  such  as 


34  SMALL  THINGS. 

he  would  feel  for  his  own  sister,  or  shall  he 
leave  her  to  eret  over  it  as  best  she  can.  "Which 

O 

is  the  most  honorable  course,  which  is  the 
noblest '( " 

Sensitive  Frank  flushed  a  vivid  crimson.  Ah, 
why  had  he  come  to  her  for  advice  in  this  mat- 
ter? If  it  had  been  any  one  else,  any  other 
man's  love  story,  she  would  not  have  hesitated 
to  give  it.  Had  Dr.  Yail  the  gift  of  second 
sight  ?  Did  he  know  that  weak  Lily  Sherwood 
was  not  the  only  one  who  had  given  him  her 
heart  ? 

"  Well,  why  are  you  so  silent  ? "  he  asked,  light- 
ly, with  a  glance  at  her  glowing  cheeks. 

"Dr.  Vail,"  said  frank,  in  a  hurried  voice, 
"  why  do  you  not  go  to  some  one  who  is  wise 
in  such  matters  ?  I  have  no  experience,  no 
judgment." 

"  Excuse  me,  I  think  you  have.  I  want  your 
judgment.  Xo  one  else  is  wise  enough." 

"  Marriage  without  love  seems  to  me  to  be 
never  justifiable,"  she  said,  speaking  slowly ; 
"  but  there  may  be  cases,  your  own  heart  and 
conscience  ought  to  be  your  best  counselor  in 
this  matter,  Dr.  Vail." 

He  looked  at  her  in  a  surprised  way. 


THE  RAINY  DAY.  35 

"  Did  I  say  I  was  speaking  of  myself  ?  What 
a  coxcomb  you  must  tluiik  me !  What  attrac- 
tions have  I  for  a  lady  of  beauty  and  accom- 
plishments ? " 

She  looked  at  him  smiling. 

'"  lie  was  a  choice  young  man  and  a  goodly ; 
from  his  shoulders  and  upward  he  was  higher 
than  any  of  the  people,"  she  quoted,  lightly. 

The  quick  color  flushed  to  his  forehead  and 
he  drew  back  chilled  and  stern.  Nothing  hurt 
Dr.  Vail  like  a  compliment  on  his  personal 
appearance. 

ki  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Frank,  hastily, 
"  the  words  were  involuntary." 

"'  Never  repeat  them  then.  I  am  astonished 
at  myself  for  having  told  you  this.  It  was  the 
last  thing  I  thought  of  doing  when  I  came  in  ; 
but  there  is  something  about  you  which  inspires 
confidence,  people  give  it  unconsciously.  Now 
confess  that  you  are  disappointed  in  me,  that 
you  consider  me  weak,  vain,  conceited,  tri- 
fling—" 

"•  That  will  do.  You  haven't  hit  it  in  any  of 
those  adjectives,  and  you  are  not  likely  to.  I 
merely  consider  you  a  blunderer.  I  advise  you 
to  do  nothing  hastily.  Don't  do  a  wrong  thing 


36  SMALL  THINGS. 

for  the  sake  of  being  honorable.  Don't  do  an 
ignoble  thing  thinking  it  is  noble.  And,"  she 
added,  softly,  "  if  any  man  lack  wisdom,  let  him 
ask  of  God,  who  giveth  liberally  and  upbraideth 
not." 

Dr.  Yail  arose  to  go. 

"  You  have  helped  me,*Miss  Frank,"  were  his 
parting  words  as  he  ran  down  the  steps. 

Frank  watched  him  disappear  in  the  fog  and 
mist.  The  fog  and  inist  seemed  to  be  settling 
over  her  whole  life. 

"  Was  it  for  this  I  stayed  in  Crescent  ?  "  she 
asked  herself,  as  she  listened  to  the  ceaseless 
moaning  of  the  wind  and  the  dreary  patter  of  the 
rain.  Was  it  because  she  had  tried  to  serve  God 
acceptably  that  he  had  laid  this  heavy  cross  upon 
her?  Did  he  always  deal  thus  with  his  loving, 
watchful  servants,  or  had  she  made  a  mistake  2 


HAPPINESS.  37 


IV. 

HAPPINESS. 

"Be  still,  sad  heart,  and  cease  refining; 
Behind  the  clouds  is  the  sun  still  shining." 

FRANK  closed  the  street  door  wearily  and 
went  in.  The  sitting-room  looked  cold  and 
cheerless  in  the  gray  light  of  the  storm.  The 
somber  day  was  weeping  itself  away  into  an 
early  dusk. 

"  It  is  a  disappointing  world,"  sighed  Frank, 
as  she  leaned  upon  the  window-seat  and  looked 
out  into  the  dismal  street.  It  was  only  a  mo- 
ment, the  next  she  roused  herself  with  a  laugh. 

"  There,  Frank  Farington,  don't  be  so  faint- 
hearted !  the  sun  is  shining  somewhere.  You 
must  look  for  some  one  with  a  heavier  burden 
than  your  own." 

From  her  mother's  room  came  the  sound  of 
Miss  Sarepta's  incessant  chatter.  They  did  not 
need  her  there.  Crossing  the  hall,  she  tapped 
at  the  gtudy  door.  Her  father  was  walking  up 
and  down  the  room  with  long  strides.  He 


38  SMALL  THINGS. 

looked  around  with  a  pleased  smile  at  the  bright 
face  in  the  door- way. 

"  You  look  weary,  papa.  What  can  I  do  for 
you  ? "  she  asked. 

"Nothing,  unless  you  feel  like  singing." 
'•  Well,  I  do.     Come  out  of  your  den." 
He  followed  her  into  the  sitting-room,  watch- 
ing her  with  a  lightening  face  as  she  straight- 
ened the  room,  brightened  the  fire,  and  drew  up 
the  rocking-chair  for  him.     Then,  seating  her- 
self at  the  piano,  without  any  prelude  she  sang, 
in  her  sweet,  cultivated  voice  : 

"  When  the  mists  have  rolled  in  splendor, 

From  the  beauty  of  the  hills, 
And  the  sunshine  warm  and  tender 

Breaks  in  beauty  o'er  the  liills, 
We  can  read  love's  shining  letter 

In  the  rainbow  of  the  spray; 
We  shall  know  each  other  better, 

"When  the  mists  have  cleared  away." 

Miss  Monroe  and  Mamie,  coming  in  together, 
stopped  in  the  hall  an  instant  to  listen.  Ma- 
mie's hand  was  upon  the  knob,  but  the  teacher 
stopped  her  with  a  gesture.  There  was  an  eager 
light  in  the  great  brown  eyes  that  the  girl  had 
never  seen  there  before. 


FlAPPINESS.  39 

"  Why,  I  did  not  know  you  were  so  fond  of 
music  !  "  she  said,  wouderingly. 

"  Such  singing  is  not  to  be  heard  every  day," 
said  the  lady,  holding  her  breath  as  the  beautiful 
voice  sang  on, 

"  We  shall  know  as  we  are  known, 

Never  more  to  walk  alone  ; 
In  ihe  dawning  of  the  morning, 

When  the  mists  have  cleared  away." 

"  Come  in,"  said  Mamie,  impatiently,  as  the 
last  notes  died  away.  She  did  not  know  what 
a  glimpse  of  paradise  she  was  opening  to  the 
weary,  homesick  girl.  The  cheerful  room,  the 
bright  fire,  the  green  foliage,  the  singing  bird 
in  the  window,  and  the  delightful  music.  Frank 
arose  with  her  bright  smile  of  welcome. 

'•  Yon  told  me  to  do  her  a  kindness,  and  the 
kindest  thing  I  could  think  of  was  to  bring  her 
home,"  whispered  Mamie  in  her  sister's  ear,  as 
Miss  Monroe  turned  to  speak  to  her  father,  and 
the  quiet  "  Thank  you,  dear,"  was  reward 
enough. 

"  O,  I  forgot  to  tell  you,"  said  Dr.  Faring- 
ton,  suddenly,  "  I  invited  the  Rev.  Mr.  Milburn, 
of  the  Congregational  Church,  here  this  even- 
ing ;  there  he  is  now,"  as  the  door-bell  rang. 


40  SMALL  THINGS. 

Miss  Monroe  shrank  nervously  ;  she  had  a 
sensitive  dread  of  meeting  strangers.  Frank 
observed  it,  and  wished  her  father  had  not  in- 
vited Mr.  Milburn  that  evening.  The  young 
minister  entered,  greeting  them  all  in  his  easy, 
happy  way.  He  possessed  one  of  those  genial, 
sunny  natures  which  diffuse  the  light  of  their 
own  gladness  into  the  very  atmosphere  in  which 
they  move. 

"  How  delightfully  cozy  you  are  here ! "  he 
said.  "  You  can  scarcely  know  how  it  is  storm- 
ing outside." 

"  I'm  sure  I  know,"  said  Mamie  in  her  pert, 
saucy  manner,  tossing  the  rain-drops  from  her 
curls  as  she  spoke.  "  It's  been  a  wretched  day. 
I've  had  the  blues  awfully." 

"  Ah,  that  is  a  bad  habit,  Miss  Mamie." 

"  Habit !    I  consider  it  a  disease." 

"  It  is,  nevertheless,  a  habit,  and  a  dangerous 
one,"  said  Dr.  Farington.  "It  is  very  easy  to 
cultivate  the  habit  of  being  unhappy." 

"  Call  it  a  disease,  though,  if  you  will ;  there 
is  an  excellent  remedy  which  we  all  have  in  our 
possession,  if  we  only  apply  it,"  said  Mr.  Mi) 
burn. 

"What?"  asked  Mamie. 


HAPPINESS.  41 

"  The  good  old-fashioned  one,  '  Look  for  the 
sunshine ; '  it's  a  sure  cure." 

"  Is  it  not,  sometimes,  impossible  to  find  the 
sunshine  ? "  asked  Miss  Monroe,  quietly  fixing 
her  earnest  brown  eyes  upon  him. 

"  I  think  not,  if  we  look  persistently  enough. 
It  is  all  about  us ;  it  must  touch  even  the  dark- 
est life  somewhere.  The  trouble  is,  we  catch 
the  shadow  and  let  the  sunshine  go.  There  is 
such  a  thing  as  shutting  up  the  windows  of  the 
soul  and  drawing  the  curtains  down." 

"  From  which  error  may  the  good  Lord  de- 
liver us?"  said  Dr.  Farington,  fervently. 

"  Then  you  consider  it  possible  to  be  happy 
in  spite  of  circumstances  ? "  asked  Frank. 

"  I  do,  indeed.  "Why,  there  is  a  living  illus- 
tration of  the  theory  here  in  our  own  village. 
An  old  lady  who  has  not,  to  outward  appear- 
ance, a  single  circumstance  to  make  her  life 
enjoyable,  and  is  yet  one  of  the  happiest  persons 
I  have  ever  seen.  I  mean  Miss  Sarepta  Smith." 

"  Miss  Sarepta ! "  exclaimed  Mamie.  "  Why, 
she  is  the  greatest  gossip  and  the  biggest  tat- 
tler—" 

"  Gently,  my  daughter,"  interrupted  Dr.  Far- 
ington, laying  his  finger  upon  the  thoughtless  lip. 


42  SMALL  THINGS. 

"  A  love  of  gossip,"  pursued  Mr.  Milburn, 
"is  Miss  Sarepta's  weakness.  Perfection  is  im- 
possible to  these  poor  human  natures  of  ours ; 
the  very  loveliest  has  some  deformity ;  it  is  a 
deplorable  fact,  that  the  defect  is  usually  on  the 
surface  and  the  beauty  underneath.  So  that 
we,  in  our  shortsightedness,  judge  of  a  charac- 
ter by  its  imperfections,  never  thinking  how 
fair  a  jewel  the  ugly  crust  may  hide.  That  is 
one  of  the  ways  in  which  we  lose  so  much  sun- 
shine. Now  this  old  lady  is  really  one  of  the 
little  ones  of  the  kingdom.  She  simply  takes 
God  at  his  word,  and,  consequently,  her  life  is 
all  full  of  the  sweetness  of  her  child-like  trust. 
My  boarding-place  being  directly  opposite  her 
little  cottage  I  see  a  good  deal  of  her.  I  have 
seen  her  poor,  sick,  helpless  sometimes,  and 
alone  in  the  world  with  no  one  of  her  kin  to 
minister  to  her  old  age ;  but  I  have  never  seen 
her  unhappy.  She  always  reminds  me  of  the 
text,  '  Thou  wilt  keep  him  in  perfect  peace 
whose  mind  is  stayed  on  thee.'  " 

"  You  are  right,"  said  Dr.  Farington,  rising. 
"  Miss  Sarepta  has  been  a  member  of  my  Church 
for  many  years,  and  her  strong  faith  has  helped 
me  over  many  of  my  hard  places.  And  now, 


HAPPINESS.  43 

while  you  young  people  are  discussing  her  vir- 
tues, 1  must  ask  you  to  excuse  me,  that  I  may 
harness  my  horse  and  take  her  home,  for  she 
says  she  cannot  stay  all  night." 

There  was  a  general  laugh  as  he  went  out. 

"I  hope  you  do  not  think  I  was  talking  for 
Miss  Sarepta's  benefit,"  said  Mr.  Milburn.  "I 
had  no  idea  she  was  in  the  house." 

"  Sho  has  a  correspondingly  good  opinion  of 
you,  Mr.  Milburn,"  said  Frank,  mischievously. 
"  If  you  will  excuse  me  a  moment  I  will  see 
her  off." 

When  Frank  returned  she  found  Miss  Mon- 
roe and  Mr.  Milbnrn  engaged  in  an  animated 
conversation.  The  lady's  cheeks  were  softly 
flushed,  and  her  eyes  unusually  bright. 

"I  did  not  know  Miss  Monroe  was  so  pretty," 
said  Mamie  to  Frank  when  they  were  alone. 

"  Doesn't  it  pay  to  bring  smiles  to  sorrowful 
faces  ?  "  asked  Frank,  smoothing  the  beautiful 
hair  away  from  her  sister's  forehead. 

"  I  believe  you'd  like  to  make  the  whole 
world  happy.  There  comes  "Warren.  What  a 
pest  he  is ! " 

Warren  came  in  with  a  slow,  swaggering  step, 
tossing  his  hat  in  the  corner. 


44  SMALL  THINGS. 

"I  say,  Sis,  who  is  v  ^re?"  he  asked,  laying 
his  hand  roughly  on  Pick's  shoulder.  She  did 
not  reply,  but  stood  still,  looking  into  his  face 
with  a  wistful  gaze.  Warren  was  only  seven- 
teen, but  his  boyish  face  was  thin  and  haggard, 
and  his  eyes  were  bloodshot.  Only  a  few  years 
ago  he  had  been  a  beautiful  child.  He  was  fair, 
like  Mamie,  with  the  same  blue  eyes  and  curl- 
ing hair,  but  the  innocent  look  was  gone.  Sin 
had  left  deep,  ugly  traces  upon  Warren  Faring- 
ton.  He  was  no  longer  pleasant  to  look  upon. 

"  Come,  Frank,"  he  said,  impatiently,  growing 
restless  beneath  her  pure  gaze;  "give  me  some 
supper  by  myself,  that's  a  good  girl ;  I  want  to 
go  out." 

"  Don't  go  out  to-night,  Warren,  please? 

"  Why  not  ?  What  the  — ,  I  mean,  what  do 
you  want  of  me  ? " 

"  I  want  my  brother.  Stay  for  me,  War- 
ren. " 

His  face  softened  a  trifle. 

"  I'd  do  most  any  thing  for  you,  Sis ;  but  I've 
made  an  engagement  to  go  out  with  some  fel- 
lows to-night,  and  I  can't  possibly — there  they 
are  this  minute — "  as  a  buggy  stopped  at  the 
gate.  "  Ta-ta." 


HAPPINESS.  45 

"  What  a  mean  boy  he  is !  He'll  disgrace  us 
all  yet,"  said  Mamie,  watching  as  he  drove  off. 
Frank  did  not  reply.  Her  heart  was  very  hard 
toward  Warren  to-night. 

Late  that  night,  after  Mr.  Milburn  had  taken 
his  departure,  Frank  and  Miss  Monroe  sat  alone 
by  the  fire. 

"  It  has  been  such  a  happy  evening ! "  said 
the  teacher,  throwing  herself  back  in  her  chair ; 
u  do  you  know,  Miss  Farington,  it  is  the  first 
time  I  have  been  happy  in  five  years." 

"  Come  here  often,  then,  and  we'll  keep  you 
happy." 

"  Thanks !  I  suppose  you  consider  me  ex- 
ceedingly morbid.  Life  is  such  a  struggle ! " 

"  I  know  it ;  every  life  is." 

"  Is  it  ?     Yours  looks  like  bliss  to  me." 

Frank  did  not  answer.  She  was  thinking  how 
every  heart  knew  its  own  bitterness. 

"  As  for  me,  I  seem  to  have  been  elected  unto 
misery,"  went  on  the  teacher,  with  an  accent  of 
bitterness  in  her  voice.  "When  I  was  a  year 
old  my  mother  died.  Soon  afterward  my  father 
fell  from  a  building  and  received  an  injury 
which  rendered  him  helpless  for  years.  After 
his  death  I  was  taken  care  of  by  a  hard  old  aunt, 


46  SMALL  THINGS. 

who  made  my  life  wretched.  My  only  brother 
fell  into  evil  ways,  and  is  now  a  wanderer  in  the 
earth.  I  had  a  lover,  and  God  took  him.  I  am 
onlv  twenty-four,  but  I  have  tasted  all  life's  bit- 
ter waters." 

Frank  looked  wistfully  into  the  girl's  face. 
The  pretty  flush  had  died  out,  and  it  was  grow- 
ing hard  again.  What  could  she  say  to  comfort 
this  tried  and  tempted  soul  ? 

"  I  know  you  would  tell  me  to  trust  in  God," 
pursued  the  teacher,  "  but  how  can  I  do  it  \  He 
has  taken  every  thing.  How  can  I  love  him  ? 
He  has  refused  every  prayer.  That  week, 
when  George  Bertram  lay  sick,  I  prayed  every 
moment,  with  strong  crying  and  tears.  He  ut- 
terly refused  to  hear.  Since  then  I  have  never 
prayed." 

"  He  that  believeth  shall  not  make  haste." 
The  words  came  childishly.  Frank  was  awed 
into  silence  before  this  great  sorrow. 

Miss  Monroe  got  up  and  walked  to  the  win- 
dow, looking  out  into  the  darkness. 

"  O  God,  save  this  soul  from  death ! "  Frank 
prayed,  silently. 

When  the  brown  eyes  turned  toward  her 
again  they  were  full  of  tears. 


HAPPDTESS.  47 

"Do  you  know.  Miss  Farington,  that  verse, 
as  von  repeated  it  just  now,  struck  me  with  a 
new  sense.  Can  it  be  that  I  have  been  making 
haste  all  these  years  I  Can  there  have  been  any 
good  in  these  things  after  all  I" 

Frank  arose  and  drew  the  weary  girl  in  her 


uMy  friend,  we  have  the  promise  that  all 
things  shall  work  together  for  good  to  His 
people.  God's  promises  never  fail  Can't  you 
be  courageous  ?  " 

**  Could  you,  if  he  had  taken  away  all  your 
good  things?" 

UI  don't  know.  I  am  very  weak.  I  think 
he  has  taken  something  I  thought  was  very 
good,  but  I  am  like  a  little  child  in  God's  hands. 
I  do  not  know  what  a  good  thing  is.  I  have 
not  understanding  enough." 

"Do  you  think  it  is  possible  for  me  to  be 
happy  I  " 

"  Certainly.  You  are  young  yet  Your  story 
isn't  half  told.  Wait  and  see  what  the  long 
years  are  bringing  to  you." 

••  They  are  bringing  nothing  but  misery.  I 
was  born  under  an  evil  star." 

••  Xo,  you  were  not;  nobody  ever  was.    Your 


48  SMALL  THINGS. 

world  is  too  narrow,  Miss  Monroe;  you  must 
get  out  of  yourself.  You  must  stop  brooding 
over  these  things ;  if  necessary,  stop  thinking." 

"How  can  I  do  that?" 

"  It  isn't  half  as  hard  as  you  imagine.  When 
you  feel  yourself  growing  morbid,  go  out  and 
play  tag  with  the  children.  You  have  no  idea 
how  the  exercise  will  refresh  you.  Instead  of 
sitting  alone  in  the  twilight,  go  and  find  some 
one  to  talk  to.  Crescent  is  full  of  young  life. 
Come  up  here ;  you  will  always  find  a  cordial 
welcome.  Now  you  are  tired  out,  and  I  will 
show  you  to  your  room." 

It  was  two  o'clock  when  Frank  heard  her 
brother's  shambling  footstep  coining  up  the 
stairs. 


OlRCTMBTANCES.  4.9 


V. 

CIRCUMSTANCES. 

"  0  love  of  God,  so  pure  and  strong, 

Our  weakness  comprehending! 
0  patience  of  the  Infinite, 

O'er  fallen  mortals  bending! 

jN  LEWIS  was  walking  home  from  school, 
kicking  aside  the  dead  and  sodden  leaves, 
in  a  very  disagreeable  frame  of  mind.  In  fact, 
it  was  a  day  calculated  to  make  any  one  feel 
rather  disagreeable. 

"  Ugly  enough  to  disgust  a  saint,"  ejaculated 
Fan,  as  the  rough  north  wind  swept  off  her  fur 
cap  and  loosened  her  dark  braids ;  but  she  was 
no  saint,  this  discontented  little  girl,  with  the 
black  eyes  and  scowling  brows.  Fan  thought 
she  had  had  rather  a  hard  life  of  it,  and  perhaps 
she  had ;  motherless  children  usually  do  have, 
however  much  they  may  be  allowed  to  follow 
the  bent  of  their  own  inclinations.  Ever  since 
she  was  two  years  old  Fan  had  been  left  to 
the  caxe  of  servants.  Her  mother  had  closed 

her  blue  eyes,  and  gone  smilingly  out  on  her 
4 


50  SMALL  THINGS. 

journey,  with  no  fear  for  her  girls.  They  were 
safe.  She  had  committed  them  to  the  care 
that  reaches  to  the  sparrow  :  it  would  deal  very 
tenderly  with  motherless  little  ones.  But  it 
was  well  for  that  mother  that  the  future  had 
been  mercifully  veiled  from  her  poor  human 
eyes,  or  her  feet  might  have  faltered  even  at 
the  gates  of  the  beautiful  city. 

Mrs.  Lewis  had  been  a  woman  of  rare  virtues 
and  accomplishments,  cultured,  refined,  and 
lovely  in  every  sense  of  the  word.  People 
were  always  wondering  why  her  daughters  were 
so  unlike  her.  How  the  children  of  such  a 
mother  could  be  so  totally  devoid  of  those  rare 
and  attractive  qualities  which  had  so  distin- 
guished her,  was  a  mystery;  but  it  was  not  so 
strange  after  all  when  one  considered  the  course 
of  training  to  which  they  had  been  subjected 
during  their  early  years. 

The  loss  of  his  wife  had  so  wrought  upon 
Dr.  Lewis  that  his  whole  nature  had  been  ap- 
parently changed  by  it.  He  was  submissive,  he 
said,  but  it  was  the  submission  of  the  stoic. 
From  a  genial,  bright-hearted,  jovial,  wide- 
awake man,  he  had  become  cold,  cynical,  stern, 
and  hard.  As  a  physician,  he  was  thorough 


CIRCUMSTANCES.  51 

and  skillful,  zealous  and  unremitting  in  his  at- 
tentions to  his  patients,  honest  and  just  in  all 
his  dealings.  In  his  religion  he  was  firm  and 
steadfast,  departing  from  no  letter  of  the  law ; 
but  the  heart,  the  life,  had  gone  out  of  it  all. 

To  the  black-eyed  girls  who  were  growing  up 
in  his  home  he  paid  little  regard.  He  saw  to  it 
that  they  were  comfortable,  that  their  physical 
and  mental  wants  were  attended  to,  and  further 
than  that  he  simply  neglected  them.  The  fact 
that  they  might  have  other  wants,  wants  which 
he  had  not  supplied,  had  never  presented  itself 
to  his  consideration  until  a  strange  and  unlooked- 
for  circumstance  brought  him  suddenly,  as  it 
were,  to  his  feet.  The  circumstance  was  that 
of  Howard  Delano's  coming  to  him  in  his  bold, 
lawless  way,  and  requesting  the  hand  of  his  old- 
est daughter  in  marriage.  If  a  mine  had  ex- 
ploded at  the  doctor's  feet  he  could  not  have 
been  more  startled.  He  had  been  looking  upon 
Xel  in  the  light  of  a  school-girl  in  short  dresses. 

"  Young  man,  are  you  crazy  ? "  he  thundered. 
"  Do  you  realize  that  it  is  my  daughter  you  are 
asking  for  ? " 

"  I  am  fully  aware  of  the  enormity  I  have 
committed,"  said  the  young  man,  pleasantly. 


52  SMALL  THINGS. 

"  Then  please  to  walk  out  of  that  door,  and 
never  come  in  again  until  you  have  recovered 
your  senses." 

The  young  man  went  out,  bowing  and  smiling 
in  perfect  good  humor,  and  the  irate  father 
sought  his  unhappy  child. 

"  What  does  this  mean,  Nel  ?  I  thought  you 
were  a  little  girl,"  he  said. 

"  Did  you  think  I  was  always  going  to  stay 
little?" 

"  Is  it  possible  that  you  are  weak  enough  to 
care  for  this  young  man  ? " 

"  It  is  possible  that  I  love  him." 

Dr.  Lewis  looked  hard  at  his  daughter. 
Across  the  mist  of  years  arose  the  dead  moth- 
er's face  as  it  had  beamed  upon  him  in  his  early 
youth,  not  altogether  unlike  this  girl ;  for  though 
she  had  been  fair  and  lovely  as  a  forest  flower, 
ISTel  had  now  and  then  a  sparkle  of  the  eye,  a 
smile,  a  turn  of  the  head,  that  recalled  the  dear 
face  beneath  the  willows.  Something,  perhaps 
it  was  this  vague  resemblance  to  her  mother, 
seemed  to  plead  with  him  for  gentleness,  so  he 
checked  the  harsh  invectives  that  were  trem- 
bling upon  his  lips,  and  only  said  in  a  firm,  con- 
trolled voice, 


CIRCUMSTANCES.  53 

"  Let  me  hear  no  more  of  tins,  Xel ;  the  man 
who  takes  my  daughter  from  my  home  must 
have  clean  hands  and  a  pure  heart.  When 
Howard  Delano  can  present  these  qualifications 
it  will  be  time  enough  for  him  to  speak." 

Cut  from  that  hour  Dr.  Lewis  turned  his  at- 
tention to  his  children  with  a  new  and  surpris- 
ing earnestness.  It  was  by  no  means  pleasing 
to  them,  this  sudden,  stern  vigilance  which  he 
exercised  over  them,  scrutinizing  every  act  with 
unscrupulous  eyes,  and  judging  every  misde- 
meanor, however  trifling,  with  merciless  se- 
verity. 

To  Fan  it  was  particularly  trying.  Hitherto 
she  had  been  free  and  untrammeled  as  the  wild 
Link  of  the  air.  She  had  come  and  gone  as  she 
pleased,  and  there  had  been  no  one  to  question. 
This  change  in  her  father's  management  very 
much  affected  her  enjoyment.  She  grew  rest- 
ive, and  chafed  bitterly  under  the  iron  hand  that 
had  been  so  suddenly  laid  upon  her. 

"  I  declare  it's  too  bad,"  she  muttered,  discon- 
solately, pulling  the  cap  down  over  her  fore- 
head ;  "  I  never  have  any  fun  any  more.  I 
wish  mother  had  lived  ;"  lifting  her  eyes  to  the 
cold  gray  sky  as  she  always  did  when  she 


54  SMALL  THINGS. 

thought  of  her  mother.  "  Pa's  worse  than  a  fit 
of  sickness  lately.  Growls  if  I  poke  the  end  of 
my  nose  out  of  the  house  of  an  evening.  Hal- 
lo, what's  this  ? " 

Two  bits  of  red  pasteboard  lay  at  her  feet. 
She  stooped  and  picked  them  up. 

"  Tickets  to  the  masquerade,  as  sure  as  I  live ! 
What  a  streak  of  luck !  I'll  go  if  I  die  for  it ! " 

The  suggestion  of  the  possibility  of  finding 
and  restoring  the  tickets  to  their  owner  did  not 
occur  to  this  girl.  She  had  found  them ;  they 
were  hers.  How  to  utilize  them  was  the  only 
question. 

"  I  don't  suppose  ladies  ever  go  alone  to  such 
places,"  she  soliloquized ;  "  but  I've  got  brass 
enough  for  any  thing.  I'll  manage  it  somehow. 
I  guess  providence  must  have  put  those  tickets 
in  my  way.  Well,  if  there  isn't  Howard  De- 
lano sitting  in  that  front  window,  big  as  life ! 
The  doctor  is,  doubtless,  not  at  home.  So  this 
is  the  way  you  amuse  yourself  during  his  ab- 
sence, sister  mine.  Well,  I  have  no  objection 
to  listening  to  a  bit  of  your  edifying  conversa- 
tion, and  if  it  should  ever  come  in  the  way,  I 
might  just  give  the  doctor  a  hint— that  is,  if 
Miss  Nel  should  put  on  airs,  as  she  sometimes 


CIRCUMSTANCES.  55 

does,  it's  well  enough  to  Lave  a  weapon  to  lay 
hold  of,  any  way." 

She  opened  the  outside  door  softly  and  stole 
into  the  library. 

"  I  have  no  patience  with  you,"  Nel  was  say- 
ing, in  her  quick,  impatient  voice  ;  "  if  you  had 
half  the  love  for  me  which  you  profess  it  would 
certainly  prompt  you  to  give  up  your  bad 
habits." 

"  My  bad  habits !  Nel,  I  am  sick  of  hearing 
that  everlastingly  dinged  at  me!  What  are  my 
bad  habits,  any  way?  Simply  a  little  amuse- 
ment, which  all  young  men  indulge  in.  If  Dr. 
Lewis  and  others  of  his  stern  creed  see  fit  to 
make  mountains  out  of  mole-hills  I  cannot  help 
it,  though  I  do  think  they  would  be  better  em- 
ployed in  attending  to  their  own  misdoings.  If 
people  correct  their  own  faults  they  have  enough 
to  do,  I've  found  out,  without  undertaking  to 
correct  those  of  others.  Now,  I  have  had 
enough  of  this.  You  must  choose  between 
your  father  and  me,  and  at  once." 

"  Very  well,"  she  said,  coolly,  "  I  have  chosen. 
My  father  cares  enough  for  me  to  maintain  his 
principles  and  his  manliness,  which  it  seems  you 
do  not." 


£u  SMALL  THINGS. 

"All  right.  Remember,  it  is  your  own 
choice." 

The  street  door  closed  with  a  bang.  When 
her  sister  carne  into  the  light  Fan  saw  that  her 
eyes  were  dull  with  pain,  and  her  face  white  even 
to  the  lips.  The  unkind  words  whicli  had  been 
in  the  girl's  mouth  were  not  spoken.  Some- 
where Fan  had  a  heart. 

"I  wonder  if  mother  knows,"  she  mused, 
parting  the  curtains  and  looking  out  into  the 
moonless  sky.  "  She  cannot  be  happy  if  she 
does.  I'd  never  choose  pa  to  any  one  in  the 
world,  I  know  that ;  he's  too  abominable. 
Never  mind,  I'm  going  to  the  ball  in  spite  of 
him.  '  The  mighty  gates  of  circumstance  are 
turned  upon  the  smallest  hinge.'  It's  a  lucky 
circumstance  that  threw  those  tickets  in  my 
path  any  way.  I  wonder  if  God  did  have  a 
hand  in  it  ? " 


«A  BIT  OF  FUN."  57 


VI. 

"A  BIT  OF  FUN." 
Be  good,  sweet  child,  and  let  who  will  be  clever." 


,  I  want  you  to  come  home  with 
me  to-night."  * 

Mamie  stood  on  the  highest  step  of  the  public 
school  building,  strapping  her  books  together  as 
Fan  Lewis  came  rushing  out. 

"  O,  I  can't,  Fan  !  " 

"  Yes.  you  can  ;  there's  your  mother  corning 
out  of  Mrs.  Myer's  this  minute.  I'll  ask  her." 

She  dashed  across  the  street  and  obtained 
from  Mrs.  Farington  a  reluctant  consent. 

"  Now,  Mamie,  we're  in  for  a  precious  bit 
of  fun,"  chuckled  Fan,  as  they  went  down 
the  street  together.  "  Of  course,  you've  heard 
about  the  masquerade  at  the  hall  to-night  ? 
Well,  we're  going." 

Mamie  stopped  and  looked  at  her  incrcdti- 
lutisly. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  she  asked. 

"What  I  say.     I've  never  forgiven  my  father 


58  SMALL  THINGS. 

for  not  letting  me  go  to  the  circus,  and  I  mean 
to  have  the  satisfaction  of  this  one  escapade  if  I 
never  have  another  in  my  life." 

«  Well,  go  on.     What  next  ? " 

"  You  think  I  can't  do  it,  but  you'll  find  out 
that  I've  got  brains  and  know  how  to  use  them. 
Understand,  in  the  first  place,  that  Cousin  Aman- 
da Hewitt,  from  Philadelphia,  is  visiting  us,  and 
she  has  brought  a  trunk  full  of  the  loveliest  silks 
and  laces  and  jewelry.  To-night  pa  is  going  to 
take,  her  to  a  lecture  over  at  Millerton.  They 
wont  be  back  before  eleven  o'clock.  As  soon  as 
they  have  departed  you  and  I  will  slip  up  into 
Cousin  Amanda's  room  and  appropriate  some 
of  her  fineries,  put  on  masks,  and  go  to  the 
ball." 

Mamie -clasped  her  hands  together  with  dark- 
ening eyes. 

"  It  would  be  glorious  fun  !  Could  we  man- 
age it,  Fan  ? " 

"  Nothing  easier  under  the  present  circum- 
stances. I've  been  studying  over  it  for  a  week, 
but  I  could  not  quite  arrange  it  until  providence 
opened  the  way  for  me." 

Mamie's  fair  brow  contracted.  She  did  not 
quite  relish  these  light  allusions  to  sacred  things 


"A  BIT  OF  FUN."  59 

which  came  so  frequently  from  the  careless  lips 
of  her  friend. 

-What  about  Nel?"  she  asked,  doubtfully. 
"  Wont  she  be  at  home  ? " 

"  O,  yes ;  but  she  wouldn't  dare  tell  on  us  if 
she  found  it  out ;  but  she  will  have  company 
most  likely.  She  always  does.  We'll  slip  out 
of  the  back  door.  Here  we  are.  Now  remem- 
ber, inum's  the  word  ;  don't,  for  the  world,  let 
pa  suspect  any  thing ;  he's  always  watching  me. 
Be  as  solemncholy  as  a  funeral,  or  he'll  be  sure 
to  get  something  in  his  head." 

Mamie  followed  her  friend  into  the  house,  in 
a  flutter  of  excitement.  The  family  were  just 
sitting  down  to  their  five  o'clock  dinner.  Fan 
seated  her  guest  quietly.  She  was  very  quiet 
all  through  the  meal. 

"  Are  you  sick,  Fan  ? "  asked  her  father,  won- 
dering at  her  unusual  lack  of  spirits. 

"  Xo,  sir ;  but  I'm  tired  out.  That  history 
lesson  almost  used  me  up.  It  was  soul-harrow- 
ing." 

"  Humph  !  Lessons  don't  usually  harrow 
your  soul  much.  If  you  are  tired  I  advise  you 
to  go  to  bed  early  and  get  up  bright  in  the 
morning/' 


60  SMALL  THINGS. 

"  That's  just  what  we  spoke  of  doing,  isn't  it, 
Mamie  ? " 

The  quick  color  flooded  Mamie's  face  and 
brow.  A  falsehood  did  not  come  readily  to  her 
lips.  Dr.  Lewis  looked  at  her  keenly. 

"  Perhaps  you  would  like  to  go  with  us  to  the 
lecture  ?  Ill  take  both  you  girls  if  you  wish 
it." 

"  The  saints  preserve  us ! "  ejaculated  Fan, 
throwing  up  her  hands ;  "  don't  even  speak  of 
such  a  thing.  Subject,  'The  Rise  and  Fall  of 
the  Roman  Empire,'  is  it  not  ? " 

"  The  subject  is  '  European  Travel ;'  the  speak- 
er is  both  able  and  eloquent.  I  am  not  sure  but 
it  would  be  of  the  greatest  benefit  to  you." 

"•  Thanks,  pa.  Your  kindness  is  appreciated, 
but  I  couldn't  possibly  keep  awake,"  said  Fan, 
with  a  yawn.  "  Mamie  can  go  if  she  wants  to, 
but  I  beg  to  be  excused." 

"  O  I  would  not  go  without  you,"  said 
Mamie. 

"  Very  well,  then,  if  you  are  going  to  stay  at 
home,  behave  yourselves.  Amanda,  I  will  be 
ready  in  an  hour." 

Miss  Hewitt  assented  gracefully.  She  was  a 
tall,  stately  lady.  Her  manners  were  elegant, 


"A  BIT  OF  Fux.''  61 

her  dress  superb,  and  she  spoke  and  moved  like 
a  queen.  Mamie  thought  she  had  never  seen 
any  one  so  magnificent. 

"  I  would  as  soon  think  of  borrowing  the 
queen's  royal  robes  as  one  of  her  dresses,"  she 
whispered  to  Fan,  as  they  went  up  stairs. 

"  Pshaw !  what  do  I  care  for  her  ? " 

Reverence  was  an  element  that  was  entirely 
lacking  in  Fan. 

At  half  past  six  Dr.  Lewis  and  his  niece  drove 
off.  Fan,  who  had  been  lying  on  a  sofa  in  an 
attitude  of  deep  dejection,  when  the  last  sound 
of  the  carriage  wheels  had  died  away,  sprang 
up,  and  catching  Mamie  in  her  arms,  waltzed 
her  round  and  round  the  room  until  she  was 
dizzy. 

"  Good-bye  to  yon,  Dr.  Lewis  and  Miss  Mag- 
nificence. May  the  fates  grant  you  a  happy 
evening,  and  aid  us  in  our  attempts  to  beguile 
the  weary  hours  of  your  absence !  Come  ahead, 
Mamie." 

Mamie  followed  the  flying  footsteps  with  a 
sinking  heart.  The  plan  did  not  look  half  so 
delightful  now  that  the  time  of  action  had 
cos ne.  Fan  opened  the  door  of  her  cousin's 
room  softly. 


62  SMALL  THINGS. 

It  was  still  and  dark.  She  drew  down  the 
shades  and  lit  a  lamp. 

"  There !  the  trunk's  locked !  Never  mind, 
here  is  the  key." 

"  O,  Fan,  don't ! "  said  Mamie,  catching  her 
hand  as  she  proceeded  to  unlock  the  trunk. 
"  Let's  rig  ourselves  out  in  something  else.  No 
one  will  know  us." 

"  What  a  goose  you  are,  'Mamie  Farington ! 
I'm  not  going  like  a  dowdy.  See  here  !  "  She 
drew  from  the  trunk  an  elegant  pearl-gray  silk 
and  shook  out  the  silvery  folds.  Mamie  clasped 
her  hands  delightedly.  She  loved  all  pretty 
things.  "See  here!"  went  on  Fan,  unfolding 
another.  It  was  a  skirt  of  pale  blue  satin, 
trimmed  with  creamy  lace.  "  There  !  you  will 
look  like  a  princess  in  this,  Mamie.  Now,  Til 
fix  you." 

Mamie  stood  still  as  if  spell-bound,  while  the 
deft  fingers  braided  her  hair  and  arrayed  her  in 
the  blue  satin.  "When  she  had  finished,  she 
clapped  her  hands  and  dragged  the  bewildered 
girl  in  front  of  the  mirror. 

"  There,  look  at  yourself." 

Mamie  rubbed  her  eyes.  Was  it  herself,  the 
tall,  elegant  figure  robed  in  lustrous  folds  of 


"  A  BIT  OF  FUN."  63 

bine  satin,  with  rich  lace  falling  away  from  her 
white  arms  and  throat,  the  thick,  soft  hair 
braided  in  a  coronet  over  her  forehead,  and  the 
wild-rose  bloom  in  her  cheeks. 

"  You  are  superb,"  said  Fan,  fastening  a 
pearl  necklace  about  the  pretty  throat,  "you 
don't  need  a  mask.  No  one  would  recognize 
you.  Now  sit  down  and  wait  for  me." 

Mamie  obeyed,  half  stupefied  as  she  watched 
her  friend  robing  herself  in  the  gray  silk  and 
fastening  her  collar  with  a  diamond  brooch. 

"  I  don't  begin  to  look  as  nice  as  you,"  said 
Fan,  pulling  at  her  dark  locks  discontentedly; 
"  this  dress  is  a  mile  to  big  for  me.  Yours  fits 
to  perfection,  but  it  don't  matter.  Now  for  our 
masks,  and  then  we'll  go." 

Mamie  shrank  nervously  as  Fan  arranged 
the  pink  domino  over  her  face.  "  Fan,  I'm 
afraid.  Suppose  Miss  Hewitt  should  find  it 
out !  " 

"  She'd  slay  us  with  the  glance  of  her  eye ; 
but  she's  not  going  to  find  it  out.  "We  wont 
dare  to  stay  more  that  an  hour,  though." 

Mamie  shivered  as  she  went  out  into  the 
damp,  starless  night.  It  was  very  dark. 

"  I  believe  it's  going  to  rain,"  she  said. 


64  SMALL  THINGS. 

"  Nonsense !  Hold  up  your  train.  Don't  for 
mercy's  sake  let  that  lace  get  soiled." 

Mamie  stood  still. 

"  Fan,  let's  go  back.     I  dare  not  do  it." 

"  "Well,  if  I'd  had  any  idea  you  were  such  a 
coward,  I'd  never  have  asked  you.  You  can  go 
back  if  you  want  to.  I'm  going  to  the  ball." 

Mamie  walked  on  in  silence.  Her  teeth  were 
chattering.  What  if  her  father  should  see  her  ? 
or  her  mother,  or  Frank  ?  A  verse  which  she 
had  learned  when  she  was  a  very  little  child 
came  flashing  back  to  her,  "  Thou,  God,  seest 
me."  That  pure,  holy  eye  that  never  slept  was 
upon  her.  How  unlovely  she  must  look  to  him 
in  the  rich  apparel  which  she  had  stolen ! 

They  had  reached  the  hall  and  were  going 
up  the  steps.  In  the  dressing-room  Mamie's 
courage  utterly  failed. 

"  I  cannot  go  in,  Fan !  "What  will  people 
think  of  us  corning  alone  ?  It  is  enough  of  it- 
self to  excite  suspicion.  Suppose  some  one 
should  inquire  into  it  and  find  us  out  ? " 

"  Suppose  the  cow  should  jump  over  the 
moon ! "  said  Fan,  contemptuously.  "  I  never 
saw  such  a  goose !  Nobody  is  going  to  see 
through  our  masks." 


"A  BIT  OF  FUN.  65 

"But  they  take  them  off  in  a  little  while. 
What  then  ? " 

"  Then  we'll  go  home.  We're  not  going  to 
take  our's  off,"  and  she  dragged  the  miserable 
girl  into  the  glare  and  heat  of  the  ball-room. 
Once  inside  the  walls,  Mamie  forgot  her  misgiv- 
ings. It  was  enchanted  land.  The  lights,  the 
music,  the  costumes,  and  the  dancing  wrought 
upon  her  unsophisticated  senses  like  a  spelL 
Her  vanity  was  flattered,  too,  for,  in  the  tall, 
beautiful  lady  in  blue  satin  and  white  lace, 
there  was  no  suggestion  of  little  Mamie  Faring- 
ton.  So  there  were  many  admiring  glances 
directed  at  her,  and  the  little  heart  began  to 
swell  with  foolish  pride. 

"Have  you  any  idea  who  the  lady  in  blue 
is  ? "  asked  one  young  man  of  another  as  they 
strolled  through  the  hall  together. 

"  Xo ;  but  I'd  give  something  to  find  out. 
There  is  a  familiarity  about  her  movements 
that  puzzles  me.  Suppose  we  try  a  nearer 
view." 

In  another  instant  Fan  felt  Mamie's  hand 
clutching  her  sleeve. 

"  There's  Warren,  Fan !  come,  let's  go  home 

this  minute.     He's  got  his  eye  on  me." 
5 


66  SMALL  THINGS. 

"  Well,  what  of  it  ?  He  can't  see  through 
your  mask." 

"  Xo  ;  but  he'll  know  it's  me.  I  believe  he 
does  now.  Do  come." 

"  We  can't  go  while  he  is  watching  us.  Be- 
sides, we  promised  to  dance  one  set ;  after  that 
we'll  go." 

But  in  the  excitement  of  the  dance  Mamie 
again  forgot  her  fears. 

An  hour  passed.  People  were  beginning  to 
unmask.  The  fact  recalled  the  girls  to  their 
senses,  Fan  needed  no  urging  this  time. 

"  Have  you  any  idea  what  time  it  is  ? "  she 
whispered.  "  I'm  afraid  it  is  late.  I  forgot 
what  I  was  about.  Here,  we  can  slip  out  now. 
}\o  one  is  noticing."  Tliey  threw  their  wraps 
about  them  and  hurried  down  the  stairs  and  out 
into  the  street. 

u  It  is  raining !  '  exclaimed  Mamie,  in  dis- 
may. 

"  Sure  enough !  and  we  have  nothing  but 
these  little  shawls !  How  foolish !  We'll  be 
drenched." 

"  Can't  we  go  in  somewhere  ?  " 

"  No ;  its  late.  We  must  get  home  before 
pa  does.  I  believe  there's  some  one  following 


"A  BIT  OF  FUN."  67 

us!"  Mamie  listened.  There  were  footsteps 
behind  them. 

••  What  shdU  we  do! "  she  whispered,  wretch- 
edly. 

••  Who's  afraid  of  them  ? "  said  Fan,  boldly; 
"  they  don't  scare  me  any.  Let's  give  them  a 
chase." 

The  two  girls  started  on  a  breathless  run, 
their  pursuers  keeping  close  behind,  until  they 
reached  Dr.  Lewis'  gate. 

"  Good-night,  young  ladies !  "  called  out  War- 
ren's voice  as  they  ran  up  the  steps.  "  Fll  in- 
form yonr  father  how  you've  spent  the  evening, 
Miss  Mary.  He  will  be  interested  to  know." 

••  You're  welcome  to  do  so,"  retorted  Mamie; 
"  and  I'll  notify  him  of  a  circumstance  or  two 
in  which  you  are  concerned." 

Fan  was  standing  still  as  if  petrified. 

••  T::creV  a  light  in  the  office,  they  are  home ! " 
she  gasped. 

Mamie  sank  down  upon  the  wet  steps,  weak 
and  trembling.  The  sight  aroused  her  friend. 

••  You  are  ruining  that  dress,"  she  said,  in  a 
miserable  voice. 

"  What  shall  we  do  \ "  asked  Mamie,  bursting 
into  tears. 


68  SMALL  THINGS. 

"  I  have  the  key  of  the  side  door,  it  is  just 
possible  we  can  get  up  stairs  without  meeting 
any  one.  Any  way,  we've  got  to  try  it.  Step 
very  softly." 

She  opened  the  door  noiselessly,  and  they  had 
almost  gained  the  staircase  when  the  parlor  door 
opened  and  two  figures  came  into  the  hall. 

"  It's  Nel  and  Bert  Wentworth  !  "  groaned 
Fan. 

There  was  no  escaping  now.  Nel's  quick, 
startled  cry  brought  Dr.  Lewis  from  his  office 
and  Miss  Hewitt  from  her  room.  Fan  started 
to  run  up  stairs,  but  her  father  caught  her  in 
his  strong  grasp,  while  Mamie,  overcome  with 
shame  and  confusion,  sank  into  a  chair  and  cov- 
ered her  face  with  her  hands.  Fan  rallied  all 
her  forces. 

"  It's  only  a  little  fun,"  she  said,   trying  to 


"  It's  the  kind  of  fun  I  intend  to  understand 
the  meaning  of,"  said  the  doctor,  in  his  sternest 
tones,  still  holding  his  daughter  in  a  grasp  of 
iron.  "  Where  did  you  come  from  ?  where  have 
you  been  ?  " 

"  We  came  from  the  dining-room,"  said  Fan, 
boldly.  "  We  have  been  only  masquerading, 


"A  BIT  OF  FUN."  69 

for  a  little  fun  ;  you  se'-  n  to  think  we  have  com- 
mitted the  unpardonab. .  cin." 

"  Haven't  you  been  out  of  the  house  ?  " 

"  No,  sir.    Not  a  step." 

"  How  is  it,  then,  that  your  clothing  is  so 
wet?" 

The  color  rushed  to  her  face,  and  the  bold, 
black  eyes  fell. 

"  I— we— " 

"  That  will  do.  It  is  a  deplorable  fact  that 
my  daughter's  word  is  not  to  be  relied  upon,  I 
see.  Perhaps  Dr.  Farington  has  been  more 
successful  in  training  up  his.  Mamie,  will  you 
explain  the  matter  ?  " 

Mamie  caught  Fan's  threatening  glance  as 
she  raised  her  head. 

"  Tell  him  you  went  to  call  on  Carrie  Ma- 
son," whispered  something  in  her  ear. 

"  Tell  him  the  truth,"  said  a  bolder  voice. 

Mamie  hesitated.  If  she  told  a  falsehood,  Dr. 
Lewis  might  be  induced  to  overlook  the  rest. 
If  she  told  the  truth,  his  wrath  would  know  no 
bounds.  There  was  a  quick,  hard  struggle,  then 
the  jewel  of  this  girl's  character  blazed  out. 

"  We  have  been  to  the  masquerade  ball,"  she 
paid,  in  a  firm  voice. 


70  SMALL  THINGS. 

«  Where  ? " 

"  At  Masonic  Hall." 

"  You  two  children,  alone  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

He  gazed  at  her,  scarcely  seeming  to  compre- 
hend. A  new  thought  seemed  to  strike  him. 

"  Where  did  you  get  your  costumes  ? "  he 
asked. 

"  We  took  them  out  of  Miss  Hewitt's  trunk." 

Nel  came  forward  with  a  little  cry  of  dis- 
may. 

"  Look,  cousin,"  she  said,  turning  the  child 
around  under  the  chandelier,  "behold  your 
dress ! " 

The  soft  folds  of  the  blue  satin  were  stained 
and  bedraggled,  and  the  costly  lace  streaked 
with  mud  and  stains  of  blue  where  the  color 
had  run  out  of  the  dress. 

The  lady's  face  flushed  deeply,  but  she  made 
no  reply.  Nel  turned  to  her  sister  angrily. 

"  Fan  Lewis,  you  ought  to  be  hung !  See, 
Cousin  Amanda,  your  new  pearl-gray  silk !  The 
train  is  ruined,  and  the  overskirt  nearly  so  ! " 

u  I  should  not  have  been  so  careless  as  to 
leave  my  trunk  unlocked,"  said  Miss  Hewitt,  in 
her  cool,  well-controlled  voice,  as  with  a  quiet 


"A  BIT  OF  FUN.  71 

"  Good-night,"  she  swept  past  them,  up  the 
stairs. 

"  She's  proud  as  Lucif er,  I  don't  care  if  her 
dresses  are  spoiled,"  muttered  Fan,  under  her 
breath. 

"  Your  evening's  entertainment,  young  ladies, 
will  cost  me  in  the  neighborhood  of  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  dollars,"  said  Dr.  Lewis.  "  You 
may  retire  to  your  rooms.  I  will  speak  with 
you  on  the  subject  in  the  morning." 

AVhat  passed  between  them  in  that  interview 
was  never  known  to  any  except  themselves. 
But  the  result  was  that  Fan  was  banished  to  a 
distant  boarding-school,  a  proceeding  against 
which  she  rebelled  grievously.  Mamie's  repent- 
ance was  so  deep  and  sincere  that  it  would  have 
carried  her  to  her  father  with  a  full  confession 
of  the  whole  affair,  had  not  Dr.  Lewis  strictly 
forbidden  the  mention  of  it  to  him. 

"  Your  father  and  I  were  classmates  in  col- 
lege," he  said.  "We  were  stanch  friends  in 
those  days ;  they  used  to  call  us  David  and  Jon- 
athan. As  we  shielded  each  other  then,  so  will 
I  shield  him  now.  He  has  trouble  enough. 
He  must  be  spared  this." 

And  thus  it  happened,  that  the  minister  and 


72  SMALL  THINGS. 

his  wife  never  knew  what  it  was  that  had 
sobered  their  young  daughter  so  suddenly  that 
winter,  and  changed  her  from  a  romping,  laugh- 
ing child  into  a  demure  and  thoughtful  young 
maiden,  a  trifle  too  grave,  it  sometimes  seemed, 
for  her  years. 

Warren  kept  his  own  counsel.  Perhaps 
Mamie's  threat  had  the  effect  of  silencing  him, 
or  it  might  have  been  some  latent  principle  of 
honor  which  prompted  him  to  spare  his  sister. 
At  any  rate,  he  never  alluded  to  the  matter 
again,  and,  as  the  time  passed  away,  Mamie 
ceased  to  fear  him. 


TKAMPLING  OVEE  PEAKLS.  73 


YII. 

TRAMPLING   OVER  PEARLS. 

"You  cannot  dream  yourself  into  a  character,  you  must 
hammer  and  forge  yourself  into  one." 


long  winter  wore  away  at  last.  Frank 
_L  thought  it  was  the  longest  she  had  ever 
known.  Spring,  when  it  came,  found  her  a  trifle 
paler,  a  trifle  older. 

"  Sweeter,"  her  father  thought,  as  he  watched 
her  bending  over  her  flower-beds  one  fragrant 
afternoon  in  May. 

"  I  am  afraid  we  are  selfish  in  keeping  you 
here,  my  daughter,"  he  said,  leaning  over  the 
piazza  railing.  "This  is  a  narrow  world  for 
you." 

"Narrow,  papa?  Perhaps  so,  but  I  some- 
times wonder  if  what  looks  narrow  to  us  is  not, 
after  all,  the  widest  sphere.  It  seems  to  me 
that  I  have  lived  more  in  this  one  winter  than 
in  all  the  rest  of  my  life." 

"Is  it  so?  I  want  you  to  live  a  full  life. 
So  many  people  go  all  through  their  journey 


74  SMALL  THINGS. 

missing  the  good  which  they  have  only  to  reach 
out  their  hands  to  take.  Don't  trample  down 
pearls  in  your  path,  my  child." 

Frank  looked  at  her  father  thoughtfully. 
Was  she  trampling  on  pearls?  It  was  a  new 
thought. 

"  How  do  you  know,  papa  ?  It  is  so  easy  to 
make  mistakes." 

"  It  is  far  too  easy.  We  are  so  blinded  by  our 
own  weaknesses.  One  thing  I  have  besought  for 
my  children  from  their  birth,  '  Lord,  give  them 
strength  of  character ! '  and  I  pray  to  be  made 
willing  that  he  should  build  you  up  through 
whatever  discipline  he  sees  fit." 

Frank's  head  bent  lower  over  her  flowers. 
Was  it  because  that  prayer  was  being  answered 
that  such  hard  things  were  happening  to  her  ? 
Was  it  a  part  of  the  discipline  that  Dr.  Vail 
must  be  taken  out  of  her  life  after  he  had  be- 
come such  a  necessity  ? 

"  Papa,  why  do  some  hearts  need  so  much  dis- 
cipline and  others  so  little  ? " 

"There,  my  dear,  that's  a  question  old  as 
time.  Don't  try  to  pick  the  '  white  lilies '  of 
God's  plans  to  pieces.  Only  be  sure  of  one 
thing,  God  cannot  make  a  mistake.  He  is  a 


TRAMPLING  OYEB  PEAELS.  75 

master  musician  and  knows  just  what  keys  to 
touch  in  every  nature  in  order  to  bring  out  the 
greatest  harmonies,  and  he  only  strikes  a  minor 
chord  when  it  is  necessary  to  the  beauty  of  the 
strain.  They  are  never  all  minors,  be  sure  of 
that.  !N"o  life  is  all  darkness.  In  every  thing 
you  learn,  learn  to  be  practical." 

The  minister  went  back  to  his  study,  and  his 
daughter  fastened  her  hat  and  strolled  down  the 
path.  Dr.  Vail  was  driving  past.  Catching 
sight  of  her  he  reined  in  his  horse. 

"  Good  afternoon,  Miss  Frank,"  lifting  his 
hat ;  "  Jo  you  want  to  do  something  for  some- 
body?" 

u  Yes,  if  somebody  has  need  of  my  assist- 
ance." 

"  Go  home  with  me,  then,  and  spend  the 
evening  with  Lily  Sherwood.  She  needs  you." 

Frank  hesitated.  "I  am  not  ready,"  she 
said. 

"  I  will  wait  for  you.     I  am  in  no  hurry." 

She  shivered  a  little  as  she  went  in  to  make 
her  preparations.  It  was  two  months  since  she 
had  spoken  with  Dr.  Vail.  Did  he  know  what 
a  hard  thing  he  had  asked  of  her?  Dropping 
her  head  in  her  hands  for  an  instant,  she  prayed, 


76  SMALL  THINGS. 

"  O  God,  take  this  unkindness  out  of  my  heart 
and  give  me  love  for  Lily  Sherwood ! " 

"I  am  going  out  of  town  to  visit  a  patient, 
and,  if  you  do  not  object,  I  will  take  you  with 
me,"  said  the  doctor,  as  they  drove  off. 

"I  shall  enjoy  it  exceedingly.  Was  there 
ever  any  thing  lovelier  than  this  day  ? " 

"  It  is  very  beautiful,"  he  said,  abstractedly. 

Frank  leaned  back  in  her  seat  and  looked  at 
him.  He  had  grown  old  and  thoughtful  since  the 
rainy  day  when  he  had  told  her  his  love  story. 
There  was  a  new  gravity  in  his  eyes  and  a  stern 
set  to  the  lips  that  had  been  so  flexible  and 
smiling  in  the  days  when  she  had  first  known  him. 

"  How  brave  he  is,"  thought  Frank. 

"  Dr.  Vail,"  she  said,  suddenly,  "  what  doe* 
Lily  want  of  me  ?  Is  she  ill  ? " 

"  She  is  feeling  wretchedly  to-day." 

"People  say  she  is  in  a  decline,"  question- 
ingly. 

"  I  do  not  think  so.  It  seems  to  me  a  mere 
giving  way  of  physical  strength.  She  will  never 
be  quite  well,  I  think.  A  sort  of  invalid  all  her 
life." 

They  rode  on  awhile  in  silence. 

"  All  her  life."     Frank  was  thinking.     "Weak 


TRAMPLING  OVER  PEARLS.  77 

Lily  Sherwood,  at  her  best  estate,  would  have 
been  a  helpless  burden  on  a  man  like  Dr.  Yail. 
She  was  one  of  those  vain,  idle,  selfish  young 
girls  whom  no  possible  discipline  can  mature 
into  womanly  women.  Did  God  require  this 
sacrifice  of  this  man,  or  was  it  a  sacrifice  of  his 
own  making  ?  Perhaps  Dr.  Vail  was  trampling 
over  pearls. 

The  doctor  was  thinking,  "  If  it  had  pleased 
God  to  grant  me  the  inestimable  gift  of  this 
woman's  heart,  my  life  would  have  been  crowned. 
Ah,  well !  one  must  not  expect  too  much  of  this 
world.  She  is  too  precious  a  treasure  to  be 
committed  to  my  careless  keeping." 

"  Life  is  a  problem,  isn't  it  ? "  he  said,  sudden- 
ly breaking  the  silence. 

Frank  started.  She  had  fallen  into  one  of 
her  reveries. 

"Dr.  Yail,  why  does  God  permit  people  to 
make  mistakes?"  she  asked. 

"  Perhaps  he  does  not.  "With  our  human  con- 
ceptions we  are  incapable  of  judging,  and  what 
looks  to  us  like  a  mistake  may  be  the  right  thing 
after  all.  I  sometimes  question  if  it  is  not  a 
part  of  the  divine  plan  that  some  lives  should  be 
tangled  and  twisted." 


78  SMALL  THINGS. 

"  O  no,  human  lives  are  too  precious  and 
beautiful  to  be  distorted.  The  fault  must  be 
ours.  We  are  careless  students.  We  rush  at 
the  conclusion  before  we  have  half  worked  out 
the  problem." 

"  Perhaps  so,  but  I  have  known  men  to  spend 
days  and  days  of  hard  thinking  and  prayer 
over  two  courses  of  action  which  suddenly 
opened  before  them,  and  after  all  their  de- 
liberation to  choose  what  looked  like  the  wrong 
thing." 

"  I  wonder  if  I  did  that,"  said  Frank,  thought- 
fully. 

"What?" 

"  Why,  last  fall  there  were  two  ways  open  to 
me,  to  go  or  to  stay.  After  much  consideration 
and  anxious  thought  I  stayed.  I  wonder  if  it 
was  the  wrong  thing  to  do  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  doctor,  hastily,  in  a  low,  stern 
tone.  "  If  you  had  gone — "  He  paused  with  a 
sudden  consciousness  of  what  he  was  saying. 

Frank's  eyes  filled  with  tears  of  sharp  pain. 

"  I  can  go  yet,"  she  began  ;  but  he  interrupted 
her  eagerly. 

"  No,  you  must  not.  My  remark  was  thought- 
less, selfish,  and  inexcusable.  Crescent  is  better 


TRAMPLING  OVEK  PEARLS.  79 

to-day  for  the  influence  which  you  have  exerted 
during  the  winter.  Crescent  needs  you." 

But  Frank  was  chilled  and  silent.  "  Selfish  " 
was  the  word  that  kept  repeating  itself.  He 
would  have  been  happier,  then,  if  she  had  gone. 
There  was  only  one  way  of  accounting  for  it. 
He  regretted  having  made  her  his  confidante  in 
the  matter  of  Lily  Sherwood. 

"  He  has  lost  faith  in  me,"  she  thought.  "  If 
I  had  gone  away  last  fall  he  would  never  have 
committed  the  folly  of  trusting  me." 

When  Frank  spoke  again  it  was  in  a  voice  of 
the  coolest  indifference. 

"  What  a  blunderer  I  am !  "  sighed  the  doctor. 


80  SMALL  THINGS. 


VIII. 

LILT    SHERWOOD. 

"  What  is  it  makes  my  feet  so  tired  and  sore  ? 

Is  it  for  running  swift  to  do  His  will ; 
Or  from  a  long,  hard  chase  for  glittering  drops 

That  I  my  cherished  treasure-cup  may  fill?" 

MRS.  SHERWOOD  was  standing  upon  the 
piazza  when  they  drove  up.  She  hastened 
down  to  meet  Frank  gladly. 

"  This  is  an  unexpected  pleasure,  my  dear.  I 
have  been  wishing  for  you  all  day.  A  sort  of 
longing,  I  guess,  for  something  happy." 

"How  is  Lily?"  asked  Frank,  smiling  into 
the  mother's  troubled  face. 

"  Miserable  ;  the  poor  child  suffers.  You  will 
find  her  in  her  room,  Frank.  Perhaps  you  will 
be  able  to  rouse  her  out  of  her  depression." 

Frank  sighed  a  little  as  she  ran  up  the  richly- 
carpeted  stairs  and  tapped  at  Lily's  door.  The 
voice  which  bade  her  enter  was  weak  and  petu- 
lant, yet  Frank  thought  as  she  opened  the  door 
that  she  had  never  looked  upon  a  more  charm- 
ing picture.  It  was  a  delightful  room,  with 


LILY  SHERWOOD.  81 

windows  reaching  to  the  floor,  lace  curtains, 
furniture  of  black  walnut  and  marble,  lovely 
pictures  on  the  walls,  brackets  holding  vases  of 
rare  flowers,  and  a  carpet  of  delicate  green 
strewn  with  pale  blossoms,  like  the  woods  in 
spring  time. 

The  young  girl,  lying  upon  the  lounge,  was 
very  beautiful.  The  exquisite  face  struck  Frank 
with  a  sense  of  newness  this  afternoon.  The 
soft  hazel  eyes,  the  golden  hair,  and  the  skin  pure 
as  the  petals  of  a  white  rose.  Perhaps  it  was 
not  such  a  sacrifice  after  all.  Beauty  is  a  rare 
gift.  It  might  satisfy  even  Dr.  Yail. 

"  Frank  Farington,  is  it  you  ? "  said  the  girl, 
raising  her  head  from  the  pillow.  "  I  am  more 
than  glad  to  see  you.  I  was  just  thinking  about 
you.  How  did  you  happen  to  drop  in  just  at 
this  moment  ? " 

"  Dr.  Vail  brought  me." 

"  Ah,  that's  it ;  the  poor,  devoted  fellow !  I 
happened  to  mention  in  his  hearing  that  I  had 
not  seen  you  in  a  long  time,  and  I  suppose  he 
remembered  it.  He  never  leaves  a  wish  of  mine 
imgratiiied  if  it  is  possible  for  him  to  gratify  it. 
I  suppose,  of  course,  you  have  heard  of  our  en- 
gagement ?  All  Crescent  seems  to  know  of  it." 
6 


82  SMALL  THINGS. 

"  I  had  heard  a  rumor  of  it,"  said  Frank, 
flushing  a  little  at  her  friend's  want  of  delicacy. 

"  I  thought  perhaps  Arthur  had  told  you  him- 
self, you  are  such  friends ;  it  is  no  secret.  How 
do  you  like  my  ring?"  She  held  out  a  little 
white  hand  with  a  diamond  flashing  upon  the 
engagement  finger. 

"  It  is  beautiful." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  I  would  have  preferred 
a  cluster,  but  I  didn^t  tell  Arthur  I  wasn't  sat- 
isfied. Do  you  think  he  is  handsome,  Frank?" 

"  He  is  very  fine-looking." 

"I  fell  in  love  with  him  at  first  sight,"  said 
Lily,  complacently.  "  It's  funny,  too,  for  I  was 
out  of  all  patience  with  papa  for  having  him 
here  to  board  before  I  saw  him.  I  thought  it 
would  be  perfectly  awful  to  have  a  doctor  for- 
ever running  in  and  out ;  but  papa  would  have 
him  because  his  father  once  did  him  some  great 
favor,  saved  his  life,  I  believe,  and  he  never 
forgets  such  things.  He  said  I'd  like  Dr. 
Vail  well  enough  after  I'd  seen  him,  but  I 
guess  he  had  no  idea  how  it  would  turn  out, 
though." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  see  you  looking  so  pale,"  said 
Frank,  attempting  to  change  the  subject. 


LILY  SHERWOOD.  83 

"  Pale,  am  I  ?  I  feel  horrid  to-day.  Frank, 
am  I  losing  my  good  looks  ? " 

"  Xonsense !  don't  be  fanciful.  You  are  as 
lovely  as  a  calla  lily." 

"Thanks.  I  am  perfectly  miserable.  I've 
got  the  blues  up  to  my  eyes  to-day." 

"  Lily  Sherwood,  what  have  you  to  be  miser- 
able about  2  It  seems  to  me  you  are  loaded 
down  with  good  things." 

"  I  don't  know  what  they  are.  It  is  awfully 
stupid  here.  Don't  you  hate  Crescent  ? " 

"  Why  should  I  hate  it  ?  As  cozy  and  happy 
a  little  town  as  can  be  found  beneath  the  sky, 
nestling  among  the  hills,  peaceful  and  sweet  as 
a  haven  of  rest.  If  we  are  not  satisfied  it  must 
be  the  fault  of  our  restless  hearts.  My  Uncle 
Ralph  used  to  say,  '  If  you  don't  like  the  place 
you  live  in,  go  to  work  and  make  it  better.' " 

"  That  is  very  easy  to  say,  but  I'd  like  to  see 
any  one  make  a  good  place  of  this.  It  will  never 
be  me.  Will  Cameron  is  coming  home,  they 
say.  Do  you  remember  him,  Frank  ? " 

"  I  should  think  I  did,"  she  replied,  laughing. 
"  What  a  young  scapegrace  he  used  to  be !  Why 
I  have  laughed  until  I  cried  at  some  of  his  capers. 
He  use  to  keep  the  whole  school  in  a  titter." 


84  SMALL  THINGS. 

"  Yes,  he  was  lively  enough  in  those  days.  I 
don't  believe  you'd  know  him  now.  Do  you 
know  why  he  went  away  ? " 

"  I  suppose  it  was  because  he  got  a  good  posi- 
tion elsewhere.'1 

"  Nonsense !  He  went  for  love  of  me,  Frank. 
I  was  engaged  to  him  when  Dr.  Yail  came. 
Of  course  I  had  to  break  it  off,  and  broke  "Will's 
heart,  too,  I  guess.  He  said  he  could  not  live 
here  any  longer." 

Frank  felt  the  indignant  blood  rising  in  her 
cheeks. 

'"  Does  Dr.  Vail  know  of  it  ? "  she  asked. 

"  No,  and  I  wouldn't  have  him  find  it  out 
for  worlds.  He  is  so  honorable;  he  would 
think  I  ought  to  keep  faith  with  "Will,  how- 
ever great  the  sacrifice  to  himself  might  be. 
He's  worth  a  dozen  such  fellows  as  "Will  Cam- 
eron." 

"  You  loved  "Will,  I  suppose,  when  you  prom- 
ised to  marry  him  ? "  said  Frank,  dryly. 

"  O,  yes,  well  enough.  He  is  pleasant  and 
entertaining,  but  Dr.  Vail  is  so  vastly  superior, 
and  he  is  a  rising  man.  Pa  says  he  will  be  rich 
some  day.  Poor  Will  was  only  a  clerk." 

Frank  looked  long  and  sadly  at  the  beautiful 


LILY  SHERWOOD.  85 

face.  It  was  of  no  use  to  argue,  no  use  to  rea- 
son, no  use  to  speak  hard,  indignant  words. 
Gradually  the  feeling  of  anger  and  contempt 
died  away,  and  in  its  place  came  a  great  wave  of 
pity  for  the  sick,  spoiled  child.  Perhaps  it  was 
not  her  fault  that  she  was  heartless. 

"  Well,  I  suppose  I  must  dress  and  go  down 
to  supper,"  said  Lily,  rising  wearily  ;  "  Arthur 
would  be  very  unhappy  if  I  should  not  appear. 
Do  you  know,  Frank,  I  used  to  think  that  he 
did  not  care  for  me  ?  I  had  an  idea  that  he  was 
in  love  with  some  one  else.  I  was  perfectly 
wretched  for  weeks,  and  at  last  I  told  mamma 
about  it.  She  said  I  was  mistaken  ;  it  was  only 
his  humility  which  made  him  appear  so  reticent. 
He  loved  me,  but  he  thought  he  was  not  worthy 
of  me.  So  it  happened — do  you  want  to  hear 
about  it  ? " 

Frank  did  not  reply.  She  had  an  innate 
consciousness  that  Dr.  Vail  would  not  have 
wished  her  to  hear  this  story ;  but  Lily  did  not 
wait. 

"Well,  it  happened  that  one  day  he  found 
me  crying  in  the  library.  He  asked  what  was 
the  matter,  and  I  told  him  that  I  was  afraid  he 
did  not  care  for  me  as  I  did  for  him.  He  did 


86  SMALL  THINGS. 

not  make  any  reply.  He  just  turned  and  walked 
out  of  the  room  and  out  of  the  house.  I  knew 
it  was  his  great  humility  which  kept  him  silent, 
so  I  waited.  I  had  done  my  part,  and  I  knew 
he  would  do  his.  It  was  two  months  before  he 
did  speak  though,  and  then  he  asked  me  to  be 
his  wife." 

The  supper  bell,  ringing  at  that  moment,  sum- 
moned them  down  stairs. 

Dr.  Tail  and  Max  Sherwood  were  talking  to- 
gether in  the  dining-room  when  the  girls  en- 
tered. Max  turned  with  his  rare,  sweet  smile 
as  he  beheld  Frank.  If  there  was  a  person  in 
the  world  in  whom  his  soul  delighted  it  was 
Frank  Farington. 

Dr.  Vail,  watching  them,  saw  the  warm  light 
steal  into  Frank's  soft,  dark  eyes.  She  had  told 
her  mother  once  that  Max  Sherwood  was  to  her 
like  the  dear  brother  that  Warren  ought  to  have 
been. 

Mrs.  Sherwood's  table  was  always  a  delightful 
place.  They  were  cheerful,  pleasant,  entertain- 
ing people,  full  of  life  and  animation,  and  seem- 
ing to  enjoy  every  enjoyable  thing  which  came 
in  their  way.  There  was  always  plenty  of  small 
talk,  enlivened  now  and  then  with  bits  of  gos- 


LILY  SHERWOOD.  87 

sip,  but  nothing  unkind,  bitter,  or  sarcastic  was 
over  permitted.  There  was  such  an  atmosphere 
of  good  cheer  and  kindly  feeling  in  this  home 
circle  that  it  was  easy  to  forget  all  unpleasant- 
ness. Even  Lily,  for  the  time,  threw  aside  her 
pettish  complaints,  and  was  languidly  interested 
in  the  conversation. 

Dr.  Vail  was  very  quiet  to-night.  The 
quietness  remained  upon  him  during  all  the 
evening. 

"  What  ails  you,  Arthur  ? "  asked  Lily,  seat- 
ing herself  beside  him,  and  laying  her  hand 
upon  his  knee  ;  "  Are  you  studying  a  case  ? " 

"  1  am  studying  a  case,  and  a  very  perplexing 
one,"  he  said,  clasping  the  small  hand  with  a 
grave  smile. 

At  nine  o'clock  Frank  said  she  must  go.  Max 
arose  eagerly  to  accompany  her. 

'•  I  am  going  over  to  see  Mrs.  Ross  to-night. 
My  carriage  is  at  the  door  if  you  prefer  to  ride," 
said  Dr.  Vail. 

Frank  caught  the  disappointment  in  Max's 
eyes.  "  He  has  something  to  say  to  me,"  she 
thought. 

"  Thank  you ;  I  believe  I  will  walk,"  she 
said. 


88  SMALL  THINGS. 

u  You  see  you  are  not  to  be  trusted  with  a 
young  lady,  my  friend,"  laughed  Max ;  "  your 
head  is  too  full  of  that  perplexing  case." 

The  doctor  smiled  gravely  as  he  watched  them 
depart.  The  case  was  very  perplexing. 


INCOMPLETENESS.  89 


IX. 

INCOMPLETENESS. 

"  "What  I  crave  most,  perchance,  them  wilt  behold, 
As  we  from  hands  unmeet  keep  pearls  and  gold." 

THEY  were  a  very  silent  pair  as  they  went 
out  into  the  night.  Frank  was  gazing  up 
into  the  stars  with  that  intense,  mysterious  long- 
ing which  comes  to  us  all  as  we  look  into  sum- 
mer night  skies. 

The  angel  which  is  imprisoned  in  every  heart, 
however  great  may  be  the  trammels  of  sin,  will 
now  and  then  beat  against  the  bars  of  its  prison- 
house  with  a  homesick  yearning  for  the  dear 
country  of  its  nativity,  "  the  land  that  is  very 
far  off." 

All  this  girl's  impassioned  soul  was  crying  out 
to-night  for  the  wings  of  a  dove.  O  to  be  up, 
beyond  the  jars  and  the  discords,  beyond  the 
earth-fogs  and  mists,  to  the  pure  air  that  sweeps 
through  the  golden  streets. 

The  threads  which  her  young  hands  were  try- 
ing to  weave  into  a  beautiful  pattern  were  all 


90  SMALL  THINGS. 

tangled  and  snapped  out  of  their  place  to-night, 
and  she  felt  that  she  would  gladly  take  the  un- 
finished web,  all  imperfect  as  it  was,  and  lay  it 
at  the  Master's  feet.  He  knew  she  had  tried. 

They  had  reached  the  parsonage  gate  before 
she  thought  of  her  companion  again.  Then  his 
unusual  silence  presented  itself  to  her  considera- 
tion. 

"What  spell  has  been  laid  on  your  lips  to- 
night ? "  she  asked,  lightly. 

"  I  am  like  Dr.  Yail,  '  studying  a  case.' " 

"  Indeed  !     Can  I  help  you  ? " 

He  looked  at  her  with  a  curious  smile. 

"  Yon  are  the  only  one  who  can,"  he  said. 

Frank  stood  a  moment  with  her  hand  upon 
the  gate-latch. 

'*  Will  you  come  in  ? "  she  asked,  at  length. 

"  ~No  ;  I  might  as  well  out  with  it ;  I  never 
could  be  sentimental.  Frank,  will  you  marry 
me?" 

She  drew  back  and  looked  at  him  in  the  star- 
light. His  face  was  very  grave.  She  put  her 
hand  over  her  mouth  to  hide  the  involuntary 
smile.  If  her  own  brother  had  asked  her  the 
question  she  would  not  have  been  more  aston- 
ished or  more  amused. 


INCOMPLETENESS.  91 

"  Well,"  he  said,  quietly,  but  with  a  tremble 
in  his  voice,  "  why  don't  you  answer  ? " 

"  I  do  not  think  you  know  what  you  are  ask- 
ing." 

"  Don't  I  ?  Hasn't  it  been  in  my  thoughts 
night  and  day  for  months,  until  I  am  weary 
of  thinking  ?  To-night  I  resolved  to  put  an  end 
to  it.  '  He  either  fears  his  fate  too  much  or  his 
deserts  too  small '  you  know.  Will  you  answer 
me  if  you  please  ?  You  must  have  known  that 
I  loved  you ;  it  cannot  be  a  new  thought  to 
you." 

"  I  had  not  the  least  idea  of  it.  I  thought  of 
you  as  I  did  of  Warren." 

"  You  cannot  mean  that  you  have  not  under- 
stood me  all  these  months  ?" 

"  I  do  mean  it.  I  thought  you  looked  upon 
me  as  an  older  sister." 

"  Frank,  are  yon  any  thing  of  a  flirt  ? " 

"What  is  your  definition  of  that  detestable 
word?" 

"  O,  a  person  who  takes  a  peculiarly  inno- 
cent delight  in  seeing  another  make  a  fool  of 
himself." 

"  Mine  is,  one  who  has  a  heartless  disregard 
for  the  fine&t  feeling  of  the  human  heart.  It  is 


92  SMALL  THINGS. 

a  sin  upon  which  I  cannot  look  with  the  slight- 
est degree  of  allowance." 

"  Then,  if  you  haven't  been  flirting  with  me, 
what  have  you  been  doing  ? " 

"  I  thought  I  was  trying  to  lead  you  to  a  bet- 
ter life.  Are  you  a  Christian,  Max  ?  " 

'•  Excuse  me.  We  are  speaking  now  of  mat- 
rimony, not  religion." 

"  They  are  inseparable  in  this  case.  I  cannot 
marry  any  one  who  is  not  a  Christian." 

"  So,  then,  I  must  give  you  up  ? " 

"  If  you  give  up  my  Saviour,  certainly.1" 

"  But  if  the  time  should  ever  come,  if  I  should 
be  led  to  renounce  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the 
devil,  will  you  still  refuse  to  be  my  wife  ? " 

"  O,  Max,  Max  !  don't  let  that  influence  you  ! 
If  the  wonderful  love  of  Christ  does  not  draw 
you,  don't  be  led  by  any  worldly  consideration 
to  give  yourself  to  him.  If  you  do,  you  will 
make  the  mistake  of  your  life." 

"  But  you  have  not  answered  me  yet.  Will 
you  ever  care  for  me  as  I  wish  ?" 

"  I  cannot  remember  the  time  when  I  did  not 
love  you,  Max — ever  since  we  were  little  chil- 
dren ;  but  it  is  not  as  you  wish." 

"  Then  I  am  to  lose  my  all  ? " 


INCOMPLETENESS.  93 

"  No ;  you  are  only  to  lose  an  ideal.  You 
have  not  yet  arrived  at  man's  estate.  With  ma- 
turer  years  will  come  maturer  judgment.  The 
day  will  come  when  you  will  be  glad  that  I  re- 
fused to  marry  you." 

"  No,  it  will  not,  Frank ;  you  must  not  make 
this  decision  final.  Take  time  to  think.  A  year, 
if  you  wish." 

Frank  hesitated. 

"  Well,  I  will  take  a  year  to  think  over  it  and 
pray  over  it.  If  I  find  that  my  feelings  change 
toward  you  I  will  let  you  know  it  at  once.  In 
the  meantime  you  had  better  avoid  me  and  find 
something  else  to  occupy  your  thoughts.  The 
world  has  a  great  deal  for  a  young  man  like 
you." 

"  Good-night." 

He  raised  her  hand  to  his  lips,  lifted  his  hat, 
turned,  and  was  gone. 

Frank  looked  after  him  with  an  impatient 
sigh. 

"  How  twisted  and  tangled  every  thing  is  ! " 
she  said,  irritably.  "  God  seems  fairly  to  mock 
his  children  sometimes.  When  the  whole  heart 
is  sick  with  longing  for  some  good  thing,  he  not 
only  withholds  it  utterly,  but  makes  the  craving 


94  SMALL  THINGS. 

more  bitter  by  thrusting  upon  it  something  which 
it  cannot  accept.  I  asked  bread  ;  has  he  not  of- 
fered me  a  stone  ? " 

The  first  sound  which  came  to  her  as  she 
opened  the  door  was  that  of  angry  voices  in  hot 
dispute. 

"  I  declare,TVarren  Farington,  you're  the  mean- 
est boy  I  ever  saw.  You're  just  contemptible. 
I'm  ashamed  that  you  are  my  brother." 

Mamie  paused  an  instant  as  her  sister  en- 
tered. Her  eyes  were  flashing  and  her  cheeks 
on  fire. 

""Why,  Mamie,''  said  Frank,  sadly. 

"  I  don't  care ;  any  young  man  that  will  in- 
sult and  browbeat  his  own  mother  isn't  fit  to 
live ! " 

And  the  indignant  girl  dashed  out  of  the 
room. 

"  Did  you  do  that,  "Warren  ? "  asked  Frank. 

';I  believe  I  called  her  an  old  woman,  and 
told  her  to  mind  her  own  business ;  and  that's 
what  she'd  better  do.  As  for  my  being  tied  to 
her  apron  strings,  it's  played  out." 

He  was  turning  to  follow  Mamie,  but  his  sis- 
ter laid  her  hand  upon  his  arm. 

"Wait  a  minute,"  she  said,  controlling  her 


INCOMPLETENESS.  95 

temper  by  a  strong  effort ;  "  do  you  think  a 
gentleman  would  speak  in  that  way  to  his 
mother  ? " 

"  I  don't  pretend  to  be  a  gentleman." 

"  You  pretend  to  be  a  man,  do  you  not  ?  Do 
you  consider  that  manner  of  speech  manly  ?" 

"Xow,  see  here,  Frank,  you  may  just  as  well 
make  up  your  mind,  in  the  first  place,  that  gab 
don't  go  down  with  me.  I  hear  enough  from 
the  old  gentleman.  !N'o  use  preaching  to  me  ; 
I'm  past  it.  " 

"  O,  Warren,  is  it  so  ?  My  only  brother, 
that  I  have  been  praying  so  earnestly  for  ? " 

"  So  has  father  been  praying.  You  see  how 
much  good  it  does.  I  wish  you'd  stop  praying 
and  let  me  have  a  good  time.  I'm  going  to  the 
devil  as  fast  as  I  can,  any  way." 

He  spoke  carelessly,  but  he  was  not  prepared 
for  the  indignant  fire  that  flashed  from  his  sis- 
ter's clear  eyes. 

"  Warren,  I  am  ashamed  of  you  ! "  she  said, 
lifting  her  hand  with  a  commanding  gesture  as 
he  put  his  hand  upon  the  door-knob  ;  "  jnst  stop 
a  moment  and  think  who  you  are,  and  what  you 
are  doing.  If  any  one  in  the  world  is  accountable 
for  the  deeds  done  in  the  body,  you  certainly 


96  SMALL  THINGS. 

are.  The  only  son  of  parents  whose  whole  life 
is  purity,  you  came  into  the  world  on  the  wings  of 
prayer  and  have  been  reared  in  the  very  atmos- 
phere of  piety.  Why,  you  ought  to  be  an  hon- 
or to  your  country.  The  ten  talents  have  been 
committed  to  you,  and  you  might  become  a 
power  in  the  world.  Instead  of  that  you  are 
wasting  your  youth,  your  health,  your  strength, 
your  intellect,  and  your  manhood.  For  what  ? 
Strong  drink  !  A  pretty  exchange  for  a  young 
life  and  an  immortal  soul,  is  it  not  ? " 

"  Sis,  you've  missed  your  calling,"  said  the 
boy,  with  a  yawn  ;  "  nature  doubtless  intended 
you  for  the  rostrum.  You  might  make  your 
fortune  at  temperance.  But  do,  please,  try 
your  knack  on  some  other  fellow.  I'm  too  old. 
And  I  never  was  a  spoon.  Good-night,  sister 
mine ;  pleasant  dreams."  And  with  a  bland 
smile  he  bowed  himself  out. 

Frank  went  up  stairs  wearily  and  threw  her- 
self upon  her  bed  with  a  rush  of  bitter  tears. 
She  was  too  heart-sick  even  to  pray  ;  but,  ah  ! 
if  she  could  have  looked  into  her  brother's 
heart  at  that  moment,  how  quickly  her  mourn- 
ing would  have  been  turned  into  rejoicing ! 
For  his  thoughtless  soul  was  stirred  to  ils  depths. 


1NCOMPT.ETENES8-  97 

His  sister's  words  were  nothing  new  to  him; 
lie  had  heard  the  same  repeatedly  from  his 
father,  his  mother,  his  teachers ;  but  one  thought 
had  gone  home.  "  You  might  become  a  power 
in  the  world,"  she  had  said.  If  there  was  one 
thing  upon  which  Warren  Farington  prided 
himself,  it  was  a  certain  strength  of  will  and  de- 
termination which  had  always  characterized  him. 
When  he  was  five  years  old  an  aged  minister 
had  said  of  him, 

"  That  boy  will  be  either  a  very  good  man,  or 
a  very  bad  one ;  there  is  no  middle  course  for 
him.  His  character  is  too  decided." 

Warren's  mother  had  never  forgotten  the 
words.  Now  that  his  feet  had  strayed  in  the 
wrong  direction,  her  heart  was  filled  with  bitter- 
ness because  of  them. 

Warren  could  not  sleep  that  night.  Usually, 
in  such  cases,  he  lit  a  cigar ;  but  now,  he  threw 
open  the  window  and  leaned  out  into  the  silent, 
breathless  night.  The  sky  was  grandly  beauti- 
ful, and  the  stars  looked  down  upon  him  with 
their  pure,  far-away  gaze,  pitying,  it  seemed 
to  the  erring  boy.  It  was  all  true  that  his 
sister  had  said.  He  was  wasting  his  life.  It 

*«vas  a  glorious  thing,  this  fresh  budding  young 

7 


98  SMALL  THINGS. 

manhood  which  he  was  sacrificing.  It  had  never 
looked  so  solemn,  so  responsible,  as  it  looked  be- 
neath the  calm  starlight  of  this  night.  Was  it 
possible  for  him  to  regain  what  he  had  lost? 
He  had  gone  a  great  way  in  sin  ;  he  shuddered 
as  he  thought  how  far.  But  perhaps  there 
was  hope  for  him.  He  might  yet  become  a 
power  in  the  world  for  good.  Bowing  his  head 
upon  the  window-sill,  he  whispered  the  prayer 
which  his  gentle  mother  had  taught  him  years 
ago  when  she  was  correcting  him  for  telling  a 
falsehood  : 

"  O  God,  wash  me  from  mine  iniquity,  and 
cleanse  me  from  my  sin." 

At  the  same  moment  the  father  and  mother, 
praying  together  in  the  solitude  of  the  study  for 
their  wayward  boy,  felt  themselves  suddenly  up- 
borne and  comforted. 

"And  the  Lord  strengthened  the  souls  of  his 
servants." 


IN  THE  SHADOW.  90 

» 

X. 

IN  THE  SHADOW. 

"No  tone  from  tlie  organ  can  swell  on  the  breeze, 
Till  the  organist's  fingers  press  down  tlie  keys." 

A  S  the  summer  advanced  Frank  felt  that  her 
_/"L  strength  was  failing.  In  August  the  skies 
were  brass,  the  sunlight  a  glare,  and  the  earth  a 
great,  hot  prison-house.  She  grew  weary,  list- 
less, and  dispirited.  Her  heart  was  full  of 
heaviness.  All  the  waters  of  life  had  turned 
into  bitterness. 

"  The  whole  head  is  sick,  and  the  whole  heart 
faint,"  she  said,  aloud,  in  her  impatience  one  hot, 
sultry  morning. 

Her  mother,  hearing  the  words,  laid  her  work 
aside  and  went  out  to  where  she  sat  upon  the 
piazza  railing,  pulling  the  blossoms  from  the 
madeira  vines. 

"  Has  papa  told  you  about  his  letter  from 
Aunt  Laura  ? "  she  asked. 

"  No,"  was  tlie  listless  answer. 

"  They  are  going  to  the  White  Mountains  and 


100  SMALL  THINGS. 

want  to  take  you  with  them.  Louise  and  her 
husband  are  going,  too ;  they  will  be  in  New 
York  next  week,  and  they  have  written  for  you 
to  join  them  there.  It  will  be  a  delightful  trip 
for  you." 

Frank  started  from  her  drooping  posture. 
Had  God  answered  an  unspoken  prayer?  All 
these  long  days  and  weeks  she  had  been  pining 
for  the  mountains. 

"  O,  mother  !  "  she  began ;  then  catching  the 
pained  look  in  the  dear  eyes,  she  stopped.  The 
anxious,  overburdened  little  mother  had  come  to 
lean  very  heavily  upon  this  brave,  bright  young 
daughter  of  late.  Always  timid  and  distrustful 
of  her  own  power,  she  found  great  help  in  this 
strong,  self-reliant  spirit.  To  send  Frank  away 
was  to  send  the  brightness  out  of  the  house. 

"  I  cannot  be  so  selfish,"  thought  Frank.  It 
was  as  if  the  prison-door  had  opened  and  shut 
again.  Mamie,  who  lay  swinging  in  the  ham- 
mock at  the  other  end  of  the  piazza,  lifted 
her  head  with  a  yawn.  "  I  wish  I  could  go," 
she  said. 

The  light  of  a  sudden  resolution  broke  over 
the  sister's  face. 

"  That  is  just  the  thing,"  she  said,  cheerfully, 


IN  THE  SHADOW.  101 

"  Mamie  needs  a  change,  and  of  course  it  will 
make  no  difference  to  them.  I  will  get  her 
ready,  and  papa  can  take  her  to  New  York." 

Mrs.  Faringtou's  loving  eye  discerned  the 
self-sacrifice  and  hesitated. 

"  1  think  you  are  the  one  to  go,"  she  said. 

"  No,  I  am  the  one  to  stay." 

Mamie  sprang  up  and  caught  Frank  in  her 
arms. 

"  O  it  is  too  good,  too  good  to  be  true  ! "  she 
cried,  gleefully.  "  There  comes  papa,  I  must  go 
and  tell  him,"  and  she  went  bounding  down  the 
path  to  meet  him. 

"I  haven't  seen  her  do  that  this  summer," 
said  the  mother,  watching  with  pleased  eyes. 

"  She  has  been  out  of  spirits  and  not  quite 
well.  It  will  do  her  a  world  of  good." 

Mrs.  Farington  smoothed  the  soft  hair  away 
from  Frank's  forehead  and  kissed  her. 

"  I  thank  God  every  day  for  you,  my  bless- 
ing," she  said. 

The  pale  cheeks  flushed  with  pleasure. 

"  O,  mamma,  how  your  words  refresh  me !  Am 
I  a  blessing  to  you  ? " 

"  And  to  every  one  of  us,"  said  her  father, 
coming  up  with  Mamie's  hand  clasped  in  his. 


102  SMALL   THINGS. 

"  And  now,  if  you  are  to  get  this  young  lady 
ready  to  go  to  the  White  Mountains,  you  will 
have  to  be  about  it,  they  are  to  be  in  New  York 
on  "Wednesday." 

Frank  went  to  work  with  alacrity,  as  if  new 
life  had  been  infused  into  her.  "  Even  Christ 
pleased  not  himself,"  was  the  pleasant  refrain 
which  was  singing  itself  in  her  heart.  It  was 
easy  to  make  a  sacrifice  for  him. 

It  was  a  busy  day,  and  at  night  she  was  com- 
pelled by  sheer  weariness  to  lay  her  head  upon 
her  pillow  at  an  early  hour.  But  her  mother's 
words,  "  My  blessing,"  soothed  her  like  a  strain 
of  music,  and  she  fell  asleep  in  perfect  peace. 

After  Mamie  went  the  house  grew  very  still. 
Indeed,  an  unusual  quiet  seemed  in  these  mid- 
summer days  to  have  fallen  over  the  whole 
village. 

Warren  had  gone  away  on  a  strolling  expedi- 
tion with  some  of  his  companions ;  Lily  Sher- 
wood was  at  the  sea-shore,  and  Max  traveling  on 
business  for  his  father. 

Dr.  Vail  allowed  himself  no  respite  from  the 
cares  and  duties  of  his  rapidly-increasing  prac- 
tice, but  he  had  grown  strangely  reticent  and 
almost  stern.  Miss  Monroe  was  spending  the 


IN  THE  SHADOW.  103 

long  vacation  at  her  boarding-place,  it  being  the 
only  home  she  knew.  She  was  much  of  the 
time  at  the  parsonage,  and  Frank  rejoiced  great- 
ly to  see  the  bitterness  gradually  stealing  out  of 
her  brown  eyes  and  her  pale  face  growing  rosy 
and  bright. 

"  I  feel  as  if  I  were  coming  into  the  light," 
she  said  one  evening  as  they  were  walking  home 
together  from  a  visit  at  Dr.  Lewis'.  "  I  think 
God  sent  me  to  you.  You  can  never  know  how 
you  have  cheered  me,  comforted  me,  lifted  me 
up.  How  you  have — " 

"Good-evening,  ladies,"  said  Mr.  Milburn's 
voice  beliind  them. 

Frank  noticed  how  the  pretty  color  flushed 
her  friend's  cheek  and  how  her  eyes  drooped 
shyly  as  the  young  minister  walked  along  beside 
them,  talking  in  his  brisk,  cheery  tones. 

She  stood  watching  them  with  a  quiet  smile, 
as  they  left  her  at  the  parsonage  gate  and  strolled 
on  in  the  gathering  twilight. 

"  I  am  not  the  only  one  who  has  '  lifted  you 
up,'  my  friend,  if  my  suspicions  are  correct. 
O,  Edith,  Edith !  what  a  happy  circumstance  it 
was  that  sent  you  to  us  that  rainy  night !  " 

She  did  not  go  in,  but  threw  herself  in  the 


104  SMALL  THINGS. 

hammock  with  a  little  sigh  of  weariness.  The 
night  was  sultry  and  intensely  warm.  She  lay 
idly  swinging  to  and  fro,  dreamily  watching  the 
stars  through  the  tree  tops,  until  voices  from 
the  study  arrested  her. 

"  Have  I  given  you  no  light,  then  ? " 

"  None  at  all,  sir.  There  is  no  hope  for  me. 
God  has  rejected  me." 

Frank's  heart  gave  a  sudden  bound.  The 
voice  was  Howard  Delano's. 

"  Let  us  pray,"  said  the  minister. 

O  that  prayer  !  Frank  thought  the  angels  in 
heaven  must  have  wept  over  it,  it  was  so  full  of 
strong  crying  and  tears. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence,  then  the  young 
man  spoke, 

"  You  might  as  well  give  me  up,  Dr.  Faring- 
ton,  I  am  not  worth  praying  for.  I  am  a  lost 
soul." 

"  He  came  to  seek  and  save  that  which  was 
lost.  My  son,  I  will  never  give  up  beseeching 
God  for  you  until  you  are  safe  in  his  arms." 
Frank  heard  the  study  door  open.  They  were 
coming  into  the  hall.  All  the  eager  soul  cried 
out  within  her,  "  O,  God,  give  me  some  word 
to  speak  to  this  youug  man." 


IN  THE  SHADOW.  105 

Howard  Delano,  coming  out  upon  the  piazza, 
found  her  pacing  back  and  forth  with  a  restless 
light  in  her  eyes.  She  put  out  her  hand  to  ar- 
rest him  as  he  was  passing. 

"  Will  you  stop  a  moment,  please,  Mr.  Delano. 
I  heard  you  say  just  now  that  you  were  a  lost 
soul.  Are  you  sure  you  are  not  refusing  to  be 
saved  ? " 

"I  have  sinned  beyond  God's  forgiveness," 
he  said,  hopelessly. 

She  looked  at  him  steadily  for  a  moment. 

"Don't  you  think  you  have  sinned  beyond 
my  father's  forgiveness  ?  "  she  asked.  "  You 
have  led  his  only  son  into  evil  ways,  encouraged 
him  by  precept  and  example  and  your  great  in- 
fluence over  him  until  he  is  almost  a  wreck ;  yet 
you  do  not  fear  to  come  to  my  father  for  help, 
and  he  has  not  turned  you  away,  has  he  ? " 

"  No,  no  !  his  whole  soul  seems  to  yearn  over 
me." 

"  Then  you  esteem  poor  human  nature  more 
capable  of  forgiving  than  the  infinite  heart  of 
God,  who  so  loved  the  world  that  he  gave  his 
only-begotten  Son  a  ransom  for  it." 

"Ah,  but  you  have  no  idea  how  far  I  have 
gone,  into  what  depths  of  sin." 


106  SMALL  THINGS. 

"  Do  not  go  any  farther,  then.  If  my  father, 
in  his  weakness,  is  longing  for  your  salvation, 
do  you  suppose  the  Saviour,  who  died  for  you, 
is  turning  his  eyes  away  with  inditference  ? " 

He  looked  at  her  lixedly  for  a  moment  as 
if  drinking  in  her  words,  then  a  sudden  light 
flashed  in  his  eyes,  and  he  grasped  her  hand. 

"  Even  unto  the  uttermost,"  he  said,  slowly. 
"  Thank  you,  Miss  Farington.  You  have  opened 
the  prison-doors  to  me." 


LOOKING  FOR  TIIE  SUNSHLNE.  107 


XL 

LOOKING  FOR  THE  SUNSHINE. 

"  0  question  not  the  cause  of  good  or  ill, 
For  querulous  distrust  brings  danger  near; 

But  Imsh  thy  heart,  and  lose  thy  restless  will 
la  that  all -perfect  Jove  that  casts  out  fear." 

HOWARD  DELANO'S  repentance  was  deep, 
sincere,  and  abiding. 

"  I  have  given  my  whole  self  to  God,"  he 
told  Frank  on  Sunday  evening,  as  he  walked 
with  her  from  church.  "All  the  powers  of  my 
being  are  his.  I  want  to  keep  back  nothing. 
Miss  Frank,  if  I  ever  do  any  thing  for  his  glory 
you  will  have  cause  for  rejoicing,  for  I  was  a 
desperate  man  when  I  left  your  father's  study 
that  night.  I  felt  that  I  was  lost  beyond  all 
recovery.  When  you  spoke  to  me  it  seemed  as 
if  God  had  sent  his  angel.  I  had  looked  upon 
all  pure-minded  Christian  young  ladies  as,  in  a 
sense,  my  enemies.  That  one  should  manifest 
any  interest  in  me  was  as  surprising  as  delight- 
ful. I  felt  at  that  moment  that  I  was  deserving 
only  of  your  contempt,  but,  instead,  you  seemed 


108  SMALL  THINGS. 

to  be  fairly  beseeching  God  for  my  soul.  Ton 
have  no  idea  what  an  intensity  of  earnestness 
there  was  in  your  voice  when  you  spoke  to  me. 
If  ever,  by  the  grace  of  God,  I  am  saved,  your 
crown  will  not  be  starless." 

And  Frank's  heart  was  filled  with  thanksgiv- 
ing such  as  it  had  never  known  before.  The 

O 

next  day  she  roused  herself  out  of  the  depres- 
sion which  was  beginning  to  settle  upon  her 
again,  and  went  to  see  Nel.  She  found  her  ly- 
ing upon  a  sofa  in  the  parlor,  her  eyes  heavy 
and  swollen  with  weeping. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here  in  the  dark  ?  Get 
your  hat  and  come  with  me.  I  am  going  to  see 
Miss  Sarepta." 

"  O  don't  go ;  it's  too  hot." 

u  No  it  isn't.  The  weather  has  changed.  It's 
delightful." 

"Well,  I  don't  care  if  it  is.     Nothing  is  de- 

7  O 

lightful  to  me  any  more.  I  will  never  be  happy 
again.  Life  is  a  fearful  burden." 

"  Have  you  tried  Mr.  Milburn's  remedy  ? " 

"  What  is  it  ? " 

"  Look  for  the  sunshine." 

"  Humph !  there  is  no  sunshine  for  me." 

"Nonsense;   it  is  all  around  you.     You  are 


LOOKING  Kou  THE  SUNSHINE.  109 

shutting  up  the  windows  of  your  soul,  I'm 
afraid.  Now  you  are  not  going  to  lie  here  cul- 
tivating your  morbid  misery  this  beautiful  after- 
noon." 

She  brought  the  dainty  walking-hat  from  the 
hall  and  fastened  it  over  Nel's  dark  hair,  and 
finally  succeeded  in  coaxing  her  out  of  the 
house. 

Nel  walked  slowly,  with  a  listless,  despondent 
air. 

"  She  will  be  happier  before  I  leave  her," 
thought  Frank,  a  glow  of  warmth  stealing  into 
her  own  heavy  heart. 

Miss  Sarepta  was  sitting  in  her  shady  porch 
with  the  ever-ready  knitting  in  her  hands. 

"  Well,  now,  I  am  right  glad  to  see  you,"  she 
said,  rising  as  the  young  ladies  came  in  at  the 
gate.  "  Come  right  in  and  take  off  your  hats." 

"No,  we  are  going  to  sit  here,"  said  Frank, 
dropping  upon  the  door-step. 

"  Here  are  some  canned  strawberries,  mamma 
sent  you." 

"  Thank  you,  dear ;  your  ma  never  forgets 
me.  What's  the  matter  with  you,  Miss  Nellie  ? 
Are  you  sick?  You  look  pale  as  a  sheet." 

"No." 


110  SMALL  THINGS. 

"  You  liaint  got  no  cough,  have  you  ?  Your 
ma  had  the  consumption." 

"  Don't  have  any  fears  for  me,  Miss  Sarepta," 
said  Nel,  with  an  accent  of  bitterness ;  "  I'll  live 
to  be  a  hundred." 

"Don't  set  too  many  hopes  on  a  long  life, 
child.  We  don't  none  of  us  know  what's  before 
us,  and  it  stands  us  all  in  hand  to  be  prepared. 
You  look  very  pimpin'.  Sage  tea  will  build 
you  up ;  did  you  ever  try  it  ? " 

"  I  don't  think  it  would  reach  my  case,"  said 
Nel,  with  a  weary  smile. 

"  No  ?  that's  because  you  liaint  no  faith  in  it. 
Gals  nowadays  don't  believe  in  the  good  old- 
fashioned  remedies.  They  think  they  must  go 
galvantin'  off  to  the  sea-shore  or  some  such  out- 
landish place,  when,  if  they'd  stay  home  and 
take  a  good  dose  of  boneset  tea,  it  would  do  'em 
a  heap  more  good.  There's  Lily  Sherwood ; 
they  say  she's  gone  to  Long  Branch.  She'd 
been  better  off  to-day  if  she  had  married  Will 
Cameron,  as  she'd  ought  to.  She  was  engaged  to 
him,  they  say,  and  he's  a  nice  boy,  Willie  is. 
lie  thought  the  world  of  that  little  chit,  too, 
though  I  never  could  see  why." 

"Nor  I,"  said  Nel.      "If  there's  a  shallow- 


LOOKING  FOR  THE  SUNS  HIM-:.  Ill 

hearted  creature  under  tlie  sun,  it's  Lily  Sher- 
wood. What  possible  motive  could  have  in- 
duced a  man  like  Dr.  Yail  to  make  such  a  fool 
of  himself  I  cannot  imagine." 

"Folks  say  it's  money  he's  after,"  said  Miss 
Sarepta ;  "  but  'taint  no  such  thing.  I  guess  I 
know  Dr.  Vail,  and  a  more  honorable,  noble- 
minded,  Christian  young  man  never  lived.  I'm 
afraid  Lily's  going  to  play  the  fool  with  him, 
though,  she  is  so  fickle.  They  say  Willie  Cam- 
eron's down  there  to  Long  Branch  now.  Bert 
Went  worth,  he  writ  home  to  his  sister  as  how 
he'd  seen  'em  paradin'  the  beach  together,  seem- 
in'  to  be  thicker  than  ever.  It's  a  shame  the 
way  that  girl  carries  on." 

"  Don't  you  get  lonesome  living  here  all  by 
yourself?"  asked  Frank. 

u  Why  no,  child,  I  don't  think  of  such  a 
thing.  There's  somebody  dropping  in  most  all 
the  time." 

"  You're  always  happy,  are  you  not  ? " 

"Well,  pretty  much  always.  Why  shouldn't 
I  be  happy?  I've  got  a  roof  over  my  head, 
(though  it  does  leak  a  little,)  and  I've  got  pretty 
good  health  most  of  the  time,  only  when  I  get 
spells  of  rheumatiz ;  and  I've  got  good  friends, 


112  >SMALL  THINGS. 

and,  above  all,  a  kind  Father  in  heaven  to  take 
care  of  me.  What  under  the  sun  have  /  got  to 
fret  about  ? " 

Nel's  black  eyes  were  fixed  eagerly  upon  the 
calm,  contented  face. 

"Didn't  you  ever  fret  about,  any  thing?"  she 
asked. 

"  O  yes  ;  when  I  was  a  girl  I  fretted  about 
every  thing.  But,  law,  what  good  did  it  do  ? 
There's  nothin',  to  my  mind,  so  foolish  as  to  get 
into  the  habit  of  makin'  yourself  miserable. 
Why,  if  I  begun  there'd  be  no  end  to  it.  I'd 
say  to  myself,  'Here  you  be,  Sarepta  Smith,  a 
poor  old  woman  without  a  chick  or  child  in  the 
world,  and  old  age  and  helplessness  cornin'  on ; 
what's  ever  goin'  to  become  of  you  ?  It's  dread- 
ful to  think  of ! '  And  I'd  soon  begin  to  grow 
thin,  and  mauger,  and  sick,  jest  of  pure  frettin'. 
But,  good  land  !  when  sich  thoughts  comes 
creepin'  in  I  jist  say,  '  Get  thee  behind  me,  Sa- 
tan ! '  for  I  know  it's  nothin'  but  his  evil  voice. 
He  loves  to  make  God's  people  unhappy. 
There's  nothin'  worries  him  so  much  as  to  see 
a  poor  soul  clingin'  with  both  hands  to  God  and 
drawin'  light  and  comfort  and  joy  from  trustin' 
in  him." 


LOOKING  FOR  THE  SUNSHINE.  113 

"  But,"  said  Nel,  with  some  irritation  in  her 
voice,  "don't  you  think  God  wants  his  people 
to  be  unhappy  ? " 

The  old  lady  took  off  her  spectacles  and 
looked  at  her  in  bewilderment.  This  was  a 
doctrine  which  her  sunny  nature  refused  to 
comprehend. 

"  Why,  child,  what  are  you  drivin'  at  ? " 

"  Well,  if  he  doesn't,  why  does  he  put  upon 
us  more  than  we  can  bear  ? " 

"  He  don't.  He  never  does.  It  is  our  weak 
hearts  that  haint  willin'  to  accept  the  troubles 
that  he  sees  to  be  necessary  for  us,  jist  as  neces- 
sary as  the  rain  is  to  spring  flowers.  Why, 
where'd  be  the  rich  harvests  if  there  wasn't  no 
dark  days,  if  the  summer  was  all  one  glare  of 
sunshine?  And  jist  so,  what  would  become  of  our 
souls  if  there  wasn't  never  nothin'  sent  to  'em 
but  a  broad  glare  of  happiness  ?  Why,  I  believe 
they'd  dry  up  and  wither  within  us,  just  as  the 
corn  does  under  the  continual  blaze  of  the  sun. 
Jist  let  God  alone,  Miss  Kel.  He  knows  what 
lie's  a-doin',  and  all  we've  got  to  do  is  jist  to 
trust  him,  and  keep  our  eyes  bright,  lookin'  be- 
yond the  storms." 

"  But    I'm   not   ready  to    look    beyond   the 


114  SMALL  THINGS. 

storms  yet.  I'm  young,  and  it  is  a  hard 
thought  that  there's  no  happiness  except  in  the 
grave." 

"  So  it  is,  dear,  and  God  don't  ask  any  one  of 
us  to  think  so  until  he  gets  ready  to  take  us  to 
himself,  and  then  he  don't  ask  us  to  look  down 
into  the  grave,  but  'way  lip  to  the  beautiful 
home  he's  prepared  for  us.  But  while  we're 
livin'  here  he  expects  us  to  make  the  very  best 
we  can  of  it.  Why,  this  is  a  real  bright  world. 
There's  lots  and  lots  of  happiness  wastin'  right 
before  your  eyes,  child.  Now,  instead  of  fret- 
tin'  your  life  out  because  God  don't  give  you 
something  you  want,  you  jist  go  out  into  his 
world  and  find  something  to  do  for  him,  and 
it's  as  like  as  not  he'll  give  you  something  that 
will  more  than  make  up  for  what  he's  refused. 
There's  plenty  to  do :  sick  folks  to  be  ministered 
to ;  sorrowin'  souls  to  be  comforted ;  tempted, 
stragglin'  souls  to  be  encouraged  and  cheered; 
little  children  to  be  smiled  upon.  Why,  if  you 
was  to  tackle  some  of  them  jobs,  you'd  find 
yourself  growin'  happier  every  day  of  your  life ; 
for  you  know 

" '  The  Master's  work  may  make  weary  feet, 
But  it  leaves  the  spirit  glad.'  " 


LOOKING  FOR  THE  SUNSHINE.  115 

"  I  wish  we  all  had  jour  brave  spirit,  Miss 
Sarepta,"  said  Frank,  smiling. 

"  Brave !  I  don't  see  nothin'  brave  about  it. 
It  jist  looks  like  common  sense  to  me.  "Why, 
if  God  wanted  his  people  to  be  miserable  he 
made  a  grand  mistake  in  makin'  this  beautiful 
world  for  us  to  live  in.  He  must  have  forgot 
himself  completely  when  he  hung  out  the  blue 
sky  and  the  rainbow  and  the  summer  clouds 
and  the  apple  blossoms  and  the  June  roses  and 
the  thousand  and  thousands  of  other  things  so  de- 
lightful that  the  very  sight  of  'em  lifts  the  spirit 
right  up.  It  seems  to  me  you  young  folks,  with 
your  mercies  crowding  all  around  you,  ought  to 
go  through  life  singin'.  If  there's  any  thing  I 
love  to  see,  it's  a  young  face  with  the  light  of  a 
hnppy  heart  shining  through  it.  There's  Mr. 
Milbnrn,  he's  always  bright  as  a  May  mornin'. 
Did  yon  know  he  was  engaged  to  Edith  Monroe, 
one  of  the  teachers  in  the  public  school  ? " 

"  Is  that  so  !  "  exclaimed  Nel  ;  "  I  never 
dreamed  of  such  a  thing." 

"  Yes ;  Mrs.  Lee  told  me  last  night.  She  said 
she'd  suspected  the  wind  was  in  that  quarter  for 
some  time,  and  yesterday  he  up  and  told  her. 
I  hope  you  girls  wont  never  let  on  that  I  said 


116  SMALL  THINGS. 

any  thing  about  it,  for  there's  no  use  of  the 
whole  neighborhood's  knowin'  it  right  away. 
It's  queer  what  wives  such  men  will  choose ! 
Now  I  had  picked  him  out  for  Frankie." 

Frank  laughed. 

"  God  is  wiser  than  you,  Miss  Sarepta.  I  am 
delighted.  Edith  Monroe  is  just  the  wife  for 
Mr.  Milburn.  They  are  admirably  adapted  to 
each  other.  He  will  take  all  the  bitterness  out 
of  her  life,  and  she  will  tone  down  that  over- 
flowing brightness  of  his  into  a  steady,  strong 
cheerfulness,  which  the  world  has  great  need  of." 

Nel's  face  was  very  gloomy  as  they  walked 
home. 

"  Every  body  has  good  things  but  me,"  she 
said.  "  Frank,  why  does  God  refuse  me  the 
one  thing  I  want  ?  I  cannot  be  happy  without 
it.  I  have  tried  to  follow  your  advice,  but  it  is 
impossible.  I  cannot  keep  from  thinking." 

"  Are  you  sure  that  God  has  refused  you  your 
good  thing  ? " 

"  O  yes !  Father  never  gives  up  his  preju- 
dices." 

"  I  think  he  will  give  up  this  one.  Howard 
Delano  is  a  new  man,  ]STel.  He  has  come  out  of 
darkness  into  light." 


LOOKING  FOK  TIIK  St  NSIIIXE.  117 

"•  What  do  you  mean  ?  Has  he  taken  the 
pledge  ? " 

"  Yes.  He  has  pledged  his  whole  life  to  the 
service  of  Christ." 

"  Frank  Farington,  you  cannot  mean  that  h'j 
is  converted  ? " 

"  I  think  that  he  has  become  thoroughly  a 
Christian.  Papa  says  he  has  never  seen  any 
one  who  seemed  so  wholly  renewed  by  the  grace 
of  God." 

"  That  is  characteristic  of  him,"  said  Nel 
eagerly.  "  He  never  does  any  thing  half-way. 
If  he  has  consecrated  himself  to  Christ,  you  may 
be  sure  it  is  an  entire  consecration.  I  have  been 
praying,  hopelessly,  for  this  for  two  years.  O, 
Frank,  what  blessed  news  you  have  brought 
me!" 

"  Thank  God,  then,  and  take  courage,"  said 
Frank,  cheerily,  as  she  left  her. 


118  SMALL  THINGS. 


XII. 

A  QUIET  MIND. 
"In  quietness  and  confidence  shall  your  strength  be." 

THE  warm  weather  lingered  late  that  year, 
and  October  was  lighting  up  the  world  with 
her  brilliant  hues  when  the  mountain  tourists 
returned.  The  whole  party  stopped  a  few  days 
at  the  parsonage  on  their  homeward  journey, 
bringing  with  them  a  breeze  of  brightness  and 
freshness  which  Frank  declared  did  her  as  much 
good  as  the  mountain  air  itself. 

The  six  weeks  of  travel  and  enjoyment  had 
transformed  Mamie  from  a  dreamy,  listless,  dis- 
pirited girl  into  a  bright,  buoyant,  blooming, 
yofing  creature,  interested  in  every  thing,  and 
looking  at  life  with  new  and  eager  eyes. 

"I  want  you  to  lend  her  to  us  this  winter, 
Alice,"  said  Mrs.  Yincent  to  her  sister ;  "  she  has 
grown  into  our  hearts.  Can  you  spare  her  for 
a  year  ?  " 

"  Do  you  want  to  go,  Mamie  2 "  asked  her 
father. 


A  QUIET  MIND.  119 

"  I  should  like  it  of  all  things,  and  yon  have 
'Frank;  you  wont  miss  me." 

""We  should  miss  you  if  we  had  ten  daugh- 
ters, but  it  is  not  our  wishes  which  we  consult 
with  regard  to  our  children.  Do  you  think  you 
can  let  her  go,  Alice  ? " 

And  the  gentle  little  mother,  seeing  how 
greatly  her  child  desired  it,  gave  a  reluctant 
consent. 

Mrs.  Vincent  and  Mrs.  Farington,  although 
twin  sisters,  were  a  direct  contrast  to  each  other 
in  every  characteristic. 

"  I  cannot  understand  it,"  Frank  said  to  her 
aunt  one  day  as  they  sat  alone  together ; 
'*  mamma  is  such  a  timid,  shrinking,  sensitive 
little  soul,  and  you  so  thoroughly  self-poised,  so 
independent,  so  courageous,  so  strong." 

••  When  \ve  were  girls,"  said  Aunt  Laura,  with 
her  low,  happy  laugh,  "your  Uncle  Ralph  used 
to  call  us  Trailing  Arbutus  and  Diamond,  be- 
cause, he  said,  Alice  was  all  sweetness  and  I  all 
flash." 

"  All  sparkle  and  brilliancy,  he  meant.  You 
must  have  been  perfectly  splendid  when  you 
were  a  girl,  Aunt  Laura,"  said  Frank,  her  ad- 
miring eyes  taking  note  of  the  erect  and  stately 


120  SMALL  THINGS. 

figure,  the  queenly  head,  and  the  fine  face, 
with  its  brilliant  dark  eyes  and  firmly  chiseled 
mouth. 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  Ah,  child,  you  would 
have  been  sadly  disappointed  if  you  had  seen 
me  then.  But,  my  dear,  there  is  about  you  a 
mystery  which  puzzles  me.  What  is  it  that  has 
cast  the  little  nameless  shadow  into  these  eyes 
that  used  to  be  so  bright  ? " 

Frank  started,  flushing  crimson  beneath  the 
keen  gaze  of  those  fine  eyes.  Could  she  not 
hide  it,  then?  Must  all  the  world  know  her 
pain  ? 

"  You  were  such  a  laughing,  romping  school- 
girl when  I  saw  you  last,"  went  on  Mrs.  Yin- 
cent,  thoughtfully ;  "  I  was  afraid  you  were 
growing  up  all  gayety  and  frivolousness.  Will 
yon  tell  me  what  magic  spell  has  wrought  such 
a  change  ? " 

"  Why,  I'm  growing  older,  auntie.  The  three 
years  have  been  very  long  ones.  They  seem 
like  ages  when  I  look  back." 

"  Why  did  you  not  come  to  Washington  last 
fall?  I  was  fairly  hungry  for  a  bit  of  young 
life  about  the  house." 

"  And  I  was  hungry  to  go.     I  can  never  tell 


A  QUIET  MIND.  121 

you  half  the  struggle  it  cost  me  to  give  it  up. 
I  hope  I  did  not  make  a  mistake.  I  thought 
my  work  was,  here.  O,  Aunt  Laura,  perhaps  I 
•was  wrong !  Perhaps  God  said,  '  Go,'  and  I 
misunderstood." 

Mrs.  Vincent  looked  at  her  niece  meditative- 
ly. She  was  a  close  observer  of  human  nature, 
and  her  keen  eyes  had  taken  in  all  the  strength 
and  sweetness  of  this  girl's  character,  as  it  had 
come  under  her  observation  during  her  short 
vi.-it.  It  manifested  itself  in  numberless  little 
deeds  of  kindness,  little  acts  of  self-denial,  little 
loving,  hopeful  words,  trifles  in  themselves,  but 
powerful  in  their  effect  to  sweeten  and  bless  the 
lives  of  all  who  came  beneath  their  happy  influ- 
ence. In  her  early  girlhood  Frank  had  been  all 
life  and  animal  spirits,  noisy  and  laughing,  with 
a  strong  tendency  to  hoidenishness.  The  toning- 
down  process  might  have  been  hard,  but  the  re- 
sult was  beautiful,  Mrs.  Vincent  thought. 

"  My  dear,"  she  said,  tenderly,  "  I  do  not  think 
you  made  a  mistake.  Your  father  said  to  me 
this  morning,  '  Frank  is  growing  into  a  noble" 
woman.'  r 

"  There,  there,  auntie,  don't  you  turn  flat- 
terer. The  greatest  compliment  papa  ever  paid 


122  SMALL  THIXGS. 

me  was  when  he  said  I  was  just  a  little  bit  like 
my  Aunt  Laura." 

"  That  was  rather  a  doubtful  one ;  but,  Frank, 
I  am  still  at  a  loss  to  account  for  the  '  undeh'n- 
able  sadness'  which  runs  like  a  minor  strain 
through  all  the  music  of  your  laughter  and 
song.  Are  you  not  content  here  ?  Is  your 
world  too  small  and  close  ? " 

"  O  no !  it  is  a  great  deal  too  wide.  I  cannot 
begin  to  fill  it.  It  seems  impossible  for  me  to 
attain  to  my  own  standard  of  right.  "What  a 
struggle  it  is  for  some  people  to  live  according 
to  their  own  ideas  of  Christianity  !  '' 

"  Do  you  not  sometimes  forget  that  you  have 
a  human  nature  to  contend  with  ? " 

"  I  believe  I  have  always  been  too  ambitious," 
said  Frank,  with  a  soft  laugh.  "  "When  I  was 
fourteen  I  determined  to  become  famous.  I  be- 
gan by  writing.  I  wasted  hours  of  time  and 
quires  of  paper.  At  last  I  got  up  what  I  con. 
sidered  a  grand  effusion  of  ideas  and  a  master- 
piece of  rhetoric,  and  sent  it  to  a  publisher.  In 
a  few  days  my  manuscript  was  returned,  with  a 
polite  note,  advising  me  to  try  again.  I  never 
tried  again.  That  experience  was  the  crusher 
to  all  my  hopes  of  literary  distinction.  About 


A  QUIET  MIND.  123 

that  time  some  one  remarked,  in  my  hearing, 
that  I  had  an  unusual  talent  for  music.  That 
set  me  oil'  in  a  new  direction.  All  my  heart 
and  soul  became  centered  upon  the  piano.  I 
would  never  rest,  I  said  loftily,  until  1  stood 
upon  the  topmost  round  of  the  ladder.  Uncle 
said,  rather  unwisely,  I  think,  that  he  would 
send  me  to  Europe  to  complete  my  studies. 
That  idea  fostered  my  ambition.  I  had  won- 
derful dreams  of  becoming  a  great  singer,  and 
thrilling  the  world  with  my  voice.  If  my  zeal 
in  my  piano  studies  had  continued  I  might  have 
become  a  superior  musician;  but,  alas  for  me !  I 
was  always  so  easily  discouraged.  One  day,  at 
a  school  entertainment,  I  was  requested  to  sing. 
I,  foolishly,  selected  an  air  from  an  opera,  which 
was  not  suited  to  my  voice,  and  far  beyond  my 
powers  of  execution,  and,  of  course,  I  made  a 
grand  fizzle  of  it.  When  I  arose  from  the  piano 
I  was  vexed  beyond  endurance  to  see  a  smile 
upon  several  faces  and  hear  a  suppressed  titter 
run  through  the  room.  Flushed  with  mortifi- 
cation and  anger,  I  dashed  out.  My  music 
master  followed,  and  taking  me  aside  he  said, 
kindly,  '  Miss  Farington,  you  make  the  mistake 
of  overrating  your  ability.  You  are  always 


12-t  SMALL  THINGS. 

trying  to  do  what  is  beyond  you.  You  will  never 
make  a  public  singer,  for,  though  your  voice  is 
sweet  and  flexible,  and  will  probably  be  much 
admired  in  small  circles,  no  possible  amount  of 
cultivation  will  ever  render  it  fit  for  the  opera. 
With  much  practice  you  will  become  a  fine 
pianist,  but  do  not  set  your  standard  too  high. 
Be  content  to  do  little  things  before  you  at- 
tempt great  ones.'  Xow,  this  was  all  true  and 
well  intended,  but  I  doubt  if  it  was  just  the 
thing  to  say  to  me  at  that  time.  At  any  rate,  it 
struck  the  death-blow  to  my  ambitious  dreams. 
I  desired  no  mediocre  attainments.  There  were 
plenty  of  third-rate  musicians  in  the  world,  and 
I  had  no  wish  to  rank  among  them.  After  that 
I  made  up  my  mind  to  fit  myself  for  teaching. 
To  this  end  I  bent  all  my  energies,  and  nothing 
coming  in  the  way  to  turn  me  off  the  track,  I 
kept  at  it  through  the  rest  of  my  course.  When 
I  was  eighteen  there  was  a  revival  of  religion  in 
the  seminary,  and  I  gave  my  heart  to  God. 
Then  my  ambition  took  a  new  turn.  I  felt,  in 
my  first  flush  of  zeal,  that  I  must  bring  the 
whole  world  to  Christ.  I  desired,  above  all 
things,  to  go  on  a  mission  to  the  heathen. 
Well,  it  all  ended  in  my  settling  quietly  down 


A  QUIET  MLXD.  125 

in  my  father's  house  and  taking  up  the  little 
every-day  duties,  just  as  every  other  girl  of 
ray  acquaintance  does,  and  I  have  discovered 
that  the  faithful  and  constant  performance 
of  these  very  trifles  often  requires  more  effort 
than  leaving  home  and  country  for  Christ's 
sake." 

Mrs.  Vincent's  jeweled  hand  was  smoothing 
the  brown  hair  very  gently. 

"  My  dear,  you  have  no  need  of  advice  or 
counsel  from  me.  I  see  you  are  fast  growing 
into  that  quietness  which  is  so  desirable.  I 
think  you  are  doing  the  will  of  your  Father  in 
heaven.  We  are  short-sighted  mortals,  but  it 
seems  to  me  that  there  is  so  much  work  lying 
nearest  your  hand  that  you  cannot  step  into  any 
other  sphere  without  stepping  right  over  God's 
purposes.  O,  Frank,  above  all  things,  be  use- 
ful !  Cultivate  a  feeling  of  personal  responsi- 
bility. I  believe  there  is  more  unhappiness  and 
wretchedness  among  young  girls  than  any  other 
class  of  society  simply  because  they  are  spend- 
ing all  their  strength  in  a  vain  chase  after 
pleasure,  and  wasting,  absolutely  wasting  their 
lives,  their  fresh,  ardent,  beautiful  young  lives, 
that  can  never  come  back  to  them." 


123  SMALL  THINGS. 

"  Perhaps  I  am  wasting  mine,"  said  Frank, 
despondently.  "  There  is  work  enough,  but  I 
am  so  listless,  and  often  disinclined  to  make 
the  effort.  If  we  are  to 

"  '  Count  that  day  lost  whose  slow,  descending  sun, 
Views  by  our  hand  no  noble  action  done,' 

I  am  afraid  there  have  been  a  great  many  lost 
days  in  my  life.  I  often  wish  I  could  go  back 
to  rny  school  days.  Life  had  so  much  zest 
then." 

"It  ought  to  have  zest  now.  Kemember, 
Frank,  God  accepts  our  desires  to  do  his  will 
when  circumstances  render  service  impossible. 
I  often  think  that  those  who  seem  to  do  the 
least  are  doing  the  most  for  his  glory;  and  I 
believe  that  the  highest  and  best  good  to  which 
we  can  attain  is  that  of  a  quiet  mind  and  a 
heart  that  loses  its  restlessness  in  a  supreme 
faith.  And  when  there  is  nothing  else  to  do, 
you  know,  '  they  also  serve  who  only  stand  and 
wait.'  " 

"I  am  glad  Frank  did  not  come  to  us  last 
fall,"  she  said  to  her  husband  that  night ;  "  God 
is  cultivating  her  very  carefully,  and  our  care- 
less fingers  might  have  hindered  her  growth." 


RESPONSIBILITY.  127 


XIII. 

RESPONSIBILITY 
"Life  is  real ;  life  is  earnest." 

LILY  SHERWOOD  was  decidedly  out  of 
temper.  She  stood  within  the  shadow  of 
the  lace  curtain,  tapping  nervously  with  her 
fingers  against  the  window-pane,  and  staring 
out  into  the  darkness  with  an  angry  sparkle  in 
her  hazel  eyes,  and  an  unusual  flush  in  her  deli- 
cate cheeks. 

A  young  man  was  leaning  against  the  mantel- 
piece, his  eyes  fixed  upon  her  with  intense 
anxiety.  He  was  slight  and  boyish,  and  the 
brown  hair  curled  upon  his  white  forehead,  soft 
and  fine  as  a  girl's. 

"  I  don't  see  why  you  should  feel  so,  "Will," 
said  Lily,  turning  upon  him  in  a  defiant  way. 
''I'm  sure  you  needn't  blame  me.  I  supposed, 
of  course,  you  understood  that  I  was  engaged  to 
Dr.  Tail." 

"  So  you  were  engaged  to  me  before  he  came, 
and  to  a  dozen  others  for  aught  I  know.  I  did 


128  SMALL  THINGS. 

not  suppose  you  attached  any  importance  to  an 
engagement." 

"  You  are  very  unkind  to  say  so." 

"  Am  I  ?  Don't  talk  of  uukindness,  Miss 
Sherwood." 

"  Why  did  you  say  that  ?  I  am  sure  I  have 
always  treated  you  with  the  utmost  kindness." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon ;  your  ideas  and  mine  do 
not  agree.  Rather  a  mistaken  kindness,  I  con- 
sider it,  to  lead  a  man  on  as  you  have  led  me 
all  these  weeks,  and  then  throw  him  overboard 
when  it  suits  your  purpose." 

"  I  have  done  nothing  of  the  kind.  I  thought 
you  had  sense  enough  to  know  that  I  meant 
nothing  but  friendship." 

"  Friendship  !  You.  do  not  understand  the 
word.  Didn't  you  say  one  night,  at  the  sea- 
shore, that  you  loved  me  better  than  any  one 
else  in  the  wide  world?  Answer  me  that!"  and 
he  caught  the  little  jeweled  hands  in  a  fierce, 
strong  grasp. 

"  I  may  have  said  it.  I  don't  remember.  Let 
go  of  my  hands,  Will ;  you  hurt  me." 

"  Then  I  am  to  understand  that  it  was  a  lie ! " 

"  You  can  understand  what  you  please ;  but  I 
would  try  to  be  a  gentleman  if  I  were  you." 


RESPONSIBILITY.  129 

''Excuse  me.  I  believe  in  calling  things  by 
thfir  proper  names.  If  it  is  any  satisfaction  to 
you  to  know  that  you  have  ruined  me,  I  hope 
you  will  enjoy  it.  Good-evening." 

She  watched  him  with  darkening  eyes  as  he 
went  out.  Twice  she  started  to  call  him  back, 
but  a  sudden  weakness  had  seized  her.  She 
heard  the  street-door  close,  and  knowing  that 
he  was  indeed  gone,  she  threw  herself  into  a 
chair  with  a  sigh  of  relief.  The  momentary 
conviction  of  her  own  great  wrong-doing  left 
her,  and  in  its  place  came  a  flush  of  gratified 
vanity. 

"  It's  a  pity  he  cares  so  much,"  she  said,  ris- 
ing and  confronting  her  beautiful  self  in  the 
mirror ;  "  but  it's  not  so  strange  after  all.  Ah, 
there  is  the  doctor's  step  in  the  hall ;  how  prosy 
and  uninteresting  he  has  grown ! " 

Dr.  Vail  entered  the  drawing-room  with  a 
sigh  of  weariness.  He  did  not  even  cast  so 
much  as  a  glance  at  the  beautiful  girl  who  was 
waiting  for  him,  but,  drawing  an  easy-chair  up 
to  the  fire,  he  quietly  sunk  into  its  depths 
and  closed  his  eyes.  Lily  came  forward  petu- 
lantly. 

"  It   seems  to  me,  Arthur,  that  you  might 
9 


130  SMALL  THINGS. 

muster  up  politeness  enough  just  to  say, 
Good -evening,  when  you've  been  gone  all 
day." 

He  opened  his  eyes  with  a  smile. 

"  Ah,  excuse  me.  It  is  so  easy  to  forget  the 
'sweet  small  courtesies!'  My  life  is  a  rather 
wearing  one,  Lily,  so  you  must  not  be  disturbed 
when  I  seem  to  neglect  you.  This  has  been 
one  of  my  hard  days." 

The  scarlet  lips  pouted. 

"  Seems  to  me  all  your  days  are  hard.  You 
are  always  glum  as  an  owl." 

u  Am  I  ?  "Well,  perhaps ;  but  you  must  have 
patience  with  me.  I  was  up  all  last  night,  and 
have  been  riding  all  day,  and  it  is  doubtful  if  I 
get  a  moment's  sleep  to-night.  I  am  a  little 
overtaxed,  sometimes." 

"  "Well,  you  have  no  one  to  blame  but  your- 
self. You  are  not  obliged  to  start  every  time  a 
baby  chances  to  sneeze.  You  do  not  get  paid 
for  half  your  services." 

"  Must  we  render  no  service  for  which  we  are 
not  paid  in  dollars  and  cents  ? " 

"  I'm  very  certain  /  should  not." 

"  What  kind  of  a  world  would  it  be  if  every 
one  acted  on  that  principle  ? " 


RESPONSIBILITY.  131 

"A  very  practical,  common  sense  kind  of  a 
world,  I  think." 

"  Common  sense,  minus  heart,  would  be  a 
more  definite  description." 

"  Humph !  There  is  such  a  thing  as  too 
much  heart.  I  consider  it  as  simply  an  infirm- 
ity." 

"  It  is  an  infirmity  with  which  very  few  of 
us  are  afflicted." 

"  It  is  well  for  us  if  it  is.  It  seems  to  me  to 
be  every  body's  duty  to  look  out  for  himself  in 
this  world." 

"I  admit  the  common  sense  of  that  argument, 
certainly ;  but  I  cannot  see  that  it  is  not  equally 
the  duty  of  every  disciple  of  Christ  to  look  out, 
as  well,  for  those  that  are  lying  helpless  in  his 
pathway." 

"  Well,  no  one  does  it,  that  is,  no  one  but  you 
— and  Frank  Farington." 

"  Excuse  me ;  I  have  a  better  opinion  of  hu- 
man nature  in  general.  Where  would  be  the 
broad  institutions  of  charity  all  over  our  great 
country  if  the  whole  world  was  so  thoroughly 

Itish?" 

"  What  is  the  use  of  such  institutions  if  they 
do  not  look  after  the  poor  and  suffering,  and 


132  SMALL  THINGS. 

relieve  a  private  individual,  like  yourself,  of  the 
responsibility  ? " 

"Nothing  can  ever  relieve  me  of  my  respon- 
sibility to  my  fellow-man.  When  I  consecrated 
my  life  to  the  service  of  Him  who  said,  '  Inas- 
much as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of 
these  my  brethren,  ye  have  done  it  unto  me,'  I 
took  upon  myself  vows,  solemn,  binding  vows,  to 
'do good,'  as  I  had  opportunity,  'to  all  men.'" 

"You  can  do  that  without  sacrificing  yourself 
as  you  do.  You  are  not  required  to  spend  your 
time  looking  up  opportunities." 

"Am  I  not?  Why,  it  seems  to  me  that  I 
have  received  a  commission  from  my  Master 
which  requires  of  me  just  that  watchful,  vigi- 
lant service.  Opportunities  do  not  come  to  us ; 
we  must  look  for  them.  God  does  not  thrust 
his  work  upon  us,  but  expects  us  to  stand  in  the 
posture  of  servants  waiting  to  catch  his  slightest 
word.  All  through  his  beautiful  life  here  upon 
earth  Christ  went  about  doing  good,  and  how 
can  we  be  Christians  unless  we  follow  in  his 
footsteps  ?  Why,  I  feel  a  sense  of  personal  re- 
sponsibility in  the  matter.  All  the  commands 
which  God  has  laid  upon  me  I  must  obey,  or  be 
false  to  my  trust.  I  have  no  more  right  to  my 


RESPONSIBILITY.  133 

own  time  and  ray  own  talents  than  the  servant 
in  your  kitchen  or  the  clerk  in  your  father's 
store  have  to  theirs.  My  idea  of  a  profession 
of  religion  is,  not  a  mere  act  which  custom  or 
the  Bible  enjoins  upon  us,  but  a  solemn  com- 
pact, signed  and  sealed,  which  demands  an  ear- 
nest, faithful,  whole-souled,  watchful  service.  I 
believe  that  a  strict  account  will  be  required  of 
us ;  and  if  we  have  neglected  the  work  which 
our  Master  has  set  apart  for  us,  the  little  every- 
day duties  which  we  see  before  us,  unless  we 
willfully  turn  our  eyes  away  from  them,  we 
cannot  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 

"Arthur,  do,  for  pity's  sake,  bring  your  ser- 
mon to  a  close !  If  there's  any  thing  that  wor- 
ries me,  it's  this  forever  preaching." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Lily,"  said  the  doctor, 
rising  and  pacing  the  room;  "I  have  no  wish 
to  disturb  you,  but  this  indolence  and  careless- 
ness, which  the  professed  followers  of  Christ 
manifest  toward  his  cause,  tries  me  exceedingly 
sometimes.  Why,  it  is  absolutely  pitiful  what 
indifference  and  disregard  for  even  the  outward 
forms  of  Christianity  exist  among  Church  peo- 
ple at  the  present  day.  The  whole  thing  often 
seems  to  be  a  farce.  It  is  like  a  man  attempting 


134:  SMALL  THINGS. 

to  cross  the  ocean  in  a  row-boat,  floating  idly 
with  folded  hands,  the  oars  lying  unused  at 
his  side,  with  his  eye  of  faith  gazing  dreamily 
across  the  troubled  waters,  trusting  that  some- 
time he  will  drift,  without  effort,  into  the  haven 
of  rest.  We  come  out  from  the  world  and  pro- 
fess that  we  are  the  Lord's ;  we  unite  ourselves 
with  his  people,  promising  before  heaven  and 
earth  to  spend  our  whole  strength  for  him  who 
has  redeemed  us  with  his  blood,  and  then  we 
go  on  living  our  close,  narrow,  selfish  lives, 
with  never  a  thought  of  the  ninety  and  nine 
who  are  perishing  in  the  wilderness.  Seeing 
the  poor,  stumbling  brother  in  our  path,  we 
pass  by  on  the  other  side.  "We  have  no  charity 
for  the  erring,  no  bread  for  the  hungry,  no  help 
for  the  dying,  and  yet  we  have  the  presumption 
to  call  ourselves  followers  of  One  whose  whole 
life  was  love !  It  arouses  all  the  contempt  in  a 
man's  soul,  if  he  has  a  soul ! " 

A  deep  flush  had  risen  in  Lily's  fair  cheeks. 

"  I  suppose  you  intend  all  this  for  me,  Dr. 
Vail,"  she  said,  angrily;  "I  am  a  member  of  the 
Church." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Lily.  I  was  not  think- 
ing of  you.  I  am  a  great  blunderer." 


-RESPONSIBILITY.  135 

"  You  have  no  right  to  judge  any  one.  You 
do  not  know  whose  life  is  most  acceptable  in 
God's  sight." 

"  That  is  so.  I  am  afraid  I  was  not  exer- 
cising much  of  that  charity  that  believeth  all 
things.  We  are  poor  blunderers  at  best,  but 
those  things  have  come  under  my  observation 
so  much  of  late  it  seems  to  me  that  if  any  one 
has  the  love  of  God  in  his  heart  it  will  bear 
fruit  in  his  life ;  but  there  may  be  difficulties  in 
the  way  that  we  cannot  see." 

'Tin  sure  I  don't  see  what  I  can  do  more 
than  I  am  doing,"  said  Lily.  "  I  live  as  well  as 
I  know  how  to  live  ;  I  give  liberally  to  all 
Church  contributions ;  I  always  take  an  active 
part  in  fairs  and  festivals  for  charitable  pur- 
poses ;  and  I  always  go  to  church,  and,  usually, 
to  prayer-meeting ;  and  I  don't  see  but  that  I 
am  as  consistent  as  the  rest  of  Dr.  Farington's 
Church  members." 

Dr.  Tail  looked  at  the  lovely  face,  taking  in 
all  its  delicate  beauty,  and  turned  away  sick  at 
hear:.  This,  then,  was  the  woman  whom  he 
was  to  love  and  cherish  until  death  should  them 
part !  A  great  yearning  seized  him  to  make  one 
earnest  appeal  to  her. 


136  SMALL  THINGS, 

"My  dear,"  lie  began,  turning,  with  the  light 
of  a  great  eagerness  in  his  fine  eyes,  "  can  you 
not—" 

The  sudden,  violent  ringing  of  the  office-bell 
cut  him  short. 

The  doctor  sighed  as  he  arose  to  obey  the 
summons. 

"  Perhaps  it  is  better  so,"  he  said,  wearily,  "  I 
might  have  hurt  her  feelings,  and  I  could  not 
have  made  her  understand." 


BITTER  SWEET.  137 


XIV. 

BITTER  SWEET. 

"  All  life's  hunger,  all  its  tears  and  pain,  are  all  a  part  of  His 
learnings." 

WHEN  young  Cameron  ran  down  the  broad 
stone  steps  of  Mr.  Sherwood's  handsome 
residence  that  night,  he  felt  himself,  as  he  had 
said,  a  ruined  man. 

His  love  for  Lily  Sherwood  was  the  one  all- 
absorbing  passion  of  his  life.  He  was  not  al- 
together weak-minded,  but  he  was  the  only  son 
of  a  widowed  mother,  and  her  idol,  from  whom 
she  had  denied  nothing  which  it  was  in  her 
power  to  procure  for  him  since  his  babyhood. 

"A  spoiled  boy,"  was  the  title  bestowed  upon 
him  in  his  early  years,  and  it  still  clung  to  him, 
though  his  fine  physique  and  a  certain  manliness 
of  manner  and  bearing  made  it  rather  an  ill- 
fitting  one.  Lily  Sherwood  had  been  his  sweet- 
heart ever  since  the  days  when  they  used  to  patter 
along  the  sidewalk,  hand  in  hand,  to  the  infant 
school. 


138  SMALL  THINGS. 

"  Is  that  your  brother,  my  dear  ? "  a  stranger 
asked  of  little  Lily,  stopping  one  day,  fascinated 
by  the  innocent  beauty  of  the  pair. 

"  Xo  ;  but  I  love  him  a  great  deal  better  than 
my  brother,"  she  replied,  with  a  pretty  pucker 
of  her  rosy  lips. 

"  You  are  going  to  be  my  wife  some  day,  are 
you  not  ? "  he  had  asked  her  during  his  tenth 
year. 

"  Why,  of  course,  Will,"  she  answered,  tossing 
her  yellow  curls. 

When  he  was  eighteen  he  repeated  the  ques- 
tion, not  with  the  old  childish  assurance  and 
boldness,  but  in  great  humility  and  trembling. 
And  her  reply  had  been  as  before, 

41  Why,  of  course,  Will.  I  have  loved  you 
ever  since  I  can  remember.  I  never  meant  to 
marry  you,"  she  said  when  she  told  him  of  her 
engagement  to  Dr.  Vail ;  "  I  don't  see  how  you 
could  think  so.  You  are  only  a  boy  !  "  And 
the  "boy"  had  gone  out  from  her  presence 
white  and  speechless. 

That  was  two  years  ago.  A  wholesome  dis- 
gust of  the  young  lady's  heartlessness  took 
possession  of  him,  and,  a  good  position  being 
offered  him  in  one  of  the  large  business  firms 


BITTER  SWEKT.  139 

of  a  flourishing  western  town,  he  immediately 
seized  it,  and  in  the  active  duties  of  a  mercantile 
life  he  was  fast  recovering  from  his  disappoint- 
ment, when,  early  in  the  second  spring  of  his 
Western  residence,  he  received  a  letter  from 
Lily.  It  was  full  of  bitter  reproaches  for  his 
seeming  indifference  to  and  forgetful  ness  of 
her,  and  ended  with  a  delicately  worded  and 
carefully  expressed,  but  decidedly  plain,  longing 
for  his  presence  again. 

That  letter  fanned  the  dying  embers  of  his 
boyish  passion  into  a  flame  at  once.  There  was 
still  hope  for  him,  then.  Surely  she  would  not 
have  taken  this  step  unless  she  wished  to  recall 
him.  She  had  probably  grown  weary  of  Dr. 
Vail.  He  was  far  too  grave  and  intellectual 
for  one  of  her  light,  trifling  disposition,  and 
she  had  doubtless  discovered  that  he  could  not 
make  her  fcappy. 

This  young  man's  knowledge  of  human  nat- 
ure was  very  limited,  especially  as  it  regarded 
his  idol.  That  Lily  could  be  guilty  of  coquetry 
and  deceit  was  a  possibility  which  he  refused  to 
accept.  When  he  announced  his  intention  of 
leaving  his  situation,  the  proprietor  of  the  firm 
looked  at  him  in  amazement. 


140  SMALL  THINGS. 

k<  Younj  man,  are  you  not  making  a  great 
mistake  ?  Your  business  capacities  are  admira- 
ble. I  have  been  more  pleased  with  you  than 
any  young  man  in  my  employ.  I  should  cer- 
tainly advise  you  to  remain  another  year,  at  any 
rate." 

But  argument  and  advice  were  alike  useless. 
The  fact  that  Lily  wanted  him  was  above  all 
other  considerations.  All  interest  and  ambition 
in  his  employment  were  at  an  end  ;  he  had  only 
one  desire,  to  reach  the  side  of  his  beloved  one, 
to  listen  to  the  music  of  her  voice,  and  bask  in 
the  sunshine  of  her  presence.  So  it  was  with  a 
wonderful  lightness  of  heart  that  he  found  him- 
self at  last  on  the  eastward-bound  train,  although 
his  own  heart  told  him  that  he  was  leaving  a 
grand  opportunity  for  success  behind  him. 

When  he  met  Lily  at  Long  Branch  a  glow  of 
great  happiness  had  leaped  into  her  eyes  at 
sight  of  him,  and  he  had  taken  her  in  his  arms 
and  called  her  by  all  the  old  endearing  names, 
and  she  had  permitted  it,  responding  to  his 
caresses  with  an  intensity  of  affection  apparent- 
ly equal  to  his  own. 

When  he  inquired  for  Dr.  Vail,  she  shook 
her  head  with  a  pout. 


BITTER  SWEET.  141 

"O,  don't  speak  of  him,  Will!  He  has 
grown  positively  tiresome." 

And  he  did  not  press  the  subject.  It  was 
enough  for  him  to  know  that  the  shallow  little 
heart  was  his  once  more.  And  so  the  summer 
days  flew  by  on  shining  wings,  but  the  dream  had 
to  be  dissolved  at  last,  and  to-night  he  had  asked 
the  decisive  question  once  again,  and  she  had 
answered. 

"  It  is  too  cruel ! "  he  muttered,  as  he  drew 
his  hat  over  his  eyes  and  hurried  on  with  nerv- 
ous strides.  "  I  was  just  beginning  to  live.  I 
wont  try  again.  I'll  just  give  up  the  strug- 
gle. It  is  too  hard." 

He  stopped  suddenly.  He  was  passing  a 
brilliantly-lighted  drinking  saloon.  "  I  might 
as  well  go  in  and  have  a  good  time  with  the 
rest,"  he  said,  aloud. 

Howard  Delano  passed  him  as  he  stood  ir- 
resolute. He  caught  the  words  and  turned  back. 

"  Is  it  you,  Cameron  ? "  he  said,  holding  out 
his  hand. 

"  What  is  left  of  me,  I  suppose." 

"  Well,  that  is  considerable,  I  should  say," 
said  the  young  man,  kindly.  "  You  were  not 
going  in  there?"  he  added,  earnestly  scanning 


14:2  SMALL  THINGS. 

the  boyish  face  that  looked  haggard  under  the 
street  lamp. 

"  Yes,  come  along,  Delano  !  " 

Howard  shuddered. 

"  Don't,  Will,  don't  !  "   he  said,  eagerly. 

"Howard  Delano,  do  my  ears  deceive  me! 
You  saying  don't!  Why,  I  thought  you  al- 
ways said,  do" 

"  Yes,  but,  God  helping  me,  I  have  said  it 
for  the  last  time  to  any  man." 

"•  Well,  if  you  have  turned  saint,  there's  hope 
for  all  the  rest  of  us.  But,  if  you  wont  join 
me,  I  must  bid  you  Good-evening." 

Howard  laid  a  strong  grasp  upon  his  arm. 

"  O,  Will,  come  away !  You  know  you  can- 
not stand  a  drop  of  the  cursed  stuif.  For  your 
mother's  sake,  come." 

Will's  face  softened  a  trifle. 

"  Poor  mother,  it  will  break  her  heart,  but  it 
must  come  soon  or  later !  I'm  a  poor,  cast-off, 
good-for-nothing  fellow,  Howard.  I  don't  care 
what  becomes  of  me." 

"  What  nonsense  you  are  talking !  You 
ought  to  be  ashamed  to  let  such  an  idea  creep 
into  your  brain.  Why,  man,  with  your  youth 
and  strength  and  talents  and  advantages,  you 


BITTER  S \\EET.  143 

ought  to  be  looking  ahead  to  the  most  brill  iaiit 
kind  of  a  life.  Don't  think  the  sun  is  put  out 
because  a  cloud  has  come  across  it.  Above  all, 
don't  go  in  such  a  place  as  that  to  get  rid  of  your 
troubles.  It  will  only  sink  you  fathoms  deeper. 
Come  with  me,  boy.  I'll  take  you  where  you'll 
forget  all  about  it.  I  am  going  to  call  on  Frank 
Farington." 

What,  little  Frank  ?     Is  she  at  home  ? " 

"Why,  certainly.  Where  have  you  been 
keeping  yourself  that  you  know  so  little  of  what 
is  going  on  ?  " 

"  O,  you  know  I  have  only  been  in  town  a 
week.  I  haven't  seen  Frank  in  ten  years. 
What  has  she  grown  into  ?  " 

'•  Come  and  see." 

"  Really,  Delano,  calling  upon  a  lady  was  the 
least  of  my  intentions,  but  I  must  confess  that 
I  have  some  curiosity  to  meet  Miss  Farington. 
At  my  last  recollection  of  her  she  was  coasting 
on  South  Street  hill  with  her  hair  flying  and 
cheeks  like  wild  roses.  What  a  romp  she  was  ! 
Those  were  the  happiest  days  in  my  life,  De- 
lano." 

"  You'll  forget  to  say  that  when  your  ship 
comes  in,"  was  the  gay  rejoinder. 


144  SMALL  THINGS. 

Howard  Delano  well  understood  the  cause  of 
his  friend's  present  dejection,  for  Lily  Sher- 
wood's trifling  with  him  was  no  secret  in  the 
neighborhood  ;  and,  although  it  roused  his  in- 
dignation, not  only  against  the  young  lady  for 
her  heartlessness,  but  against  his  friend  as  well 
that  he  should  fall  so  easy  a  victim  to  her  fool- 
ish coquetry,  there  had  sprung  up  with  him  a 
sudden  strong  desire  to  rescue  this  young  soul 
from  the  river  upon  whose  brink  he  had  found 
it  to-night. 

Frank  Farington  and  Nel  Lewis  sat  talking 
together  in  the  dark,  when  the  door-bell  rang. 

"  O,  I  cannot  see  any  one  to-night!"  ex- 
claimed Nel,  rising  hastily  to  leave  the  room. 
Frank  arrested  her  with  a  quiet  smile.  She  had 
caught  Howard  Delano's  voice  in  the  hall. 

"  I  guess  you'll  live  through  it,"  she  whis- 
pered, laughing. 

Frank  greeted  young  Cameron  with  a  cordial 
brightness,  which  made  him  less  wretched  in 
an  instant. 

"  Help  me  to  save  him,"  Howard  found  an 
opportunity  to  whisper.  "  1  found  him  at  the 
door  of  Hill's  saloon  and  brought  him  to  you." 

Frank  Farington  possessed  the  admirable  tact 


BITTER  SWEET.  145 

of  making  every  one  feel  perfectly  at  home  in 
her  presence.  Her  powers  of  adaptation  were 
unusual.  She  could  be  bright,  witty,  and  en- 
tertaining, or  kind,  gentle,  and  sympathetic,  as 
the  occasion  demanded. 

Looking  into  the  pale,  troubled  face  of  this 
young  man,  she  saw  that  a  great  weight  was 
pressing  him  down,  and  rightly  divined  its 
source. 

"  The  grasshopper  is  a  burden  to-night,"  she 
thought.  "He  needs  to  be  amused  and  drawn 
away  from  himself."  And  thus  with  skillful 
tact  she  led  him  back  to  the  old  sc.liool-room, 
bringing  up  one  childish  reminiscence  after 
another,  until  the  heaviness  stole  out  of  his  eyes, 
and  his  face  began  to  freshen  again. 

"  Blessings  on  that  girl ! "  said  Howard,  softly, 
to  Nel  as  the  light,  boyish  laugh  echoed  again 
and  again  through  the  room.  "  He  will  be  a 
changed  man  when  he  goes  out  of  this  house." 

And  he  was.  As  they  went  down  the  steps 
he  grasped  his  friend's  hand  enthusiastically. 

"  Howard  Delano,  I  thank  you  a  thousand 
times  for  taking  me  there.  She  is  a  perfect 
sunbeam !  Her  presence  has  the  effect  of 

music." 
10 


146  SMALL  THINGS. 

"  Do  you  understand  the  secret  of  her  charm, 
Cameron  ?  It  is  self-forgetfuluess.  It  is  a  won- 
derful gift,  and  rare  as  it  is  wonderful." 

"  The  world  would  be  too  happy  if  the  gift 
•were  less  rare,"  sighed  young  Cameron,  as  he 
turned  into  the  street  which  led  to  his  home. 


TRIFLING  WITH  SOULS.  147 


XV. 

TRIFLING  WITH  SOULS. 

"Mcthinks  more  hearts  are  breaking  in  this  world  of  ours 
than  one  would  say." 

66  li  /FAMMA,  do  you  think  it  is  my  duty  to 

ILL  attend  that  sociable  at  Mrs.  Mason's  to- 
night 2 "  asked  Frank,  folding  up  her  work  in 
the  twilight  as  she  spoke. 

It  had  been  a  tedious,  depressing  day ;  one  of 
those  days  which  come  to  us  all  now  and  then, 
when  every  thing  seems  flat,  stale,  and  unprofit- 
able. Petty  cares  vex  us  and  trifles  annoy,  and 
all  the  world  looks  wearisome,  so  that  at  night 
we  have  only  the  desire  to  lay  our  heads  upon 
our  pillow  and  forget. 

Mrs.  Farington  caught  the  sigh  and  hastened 
to  answer, 

"'No,  dear,  certainly  not;  if  you  feel  very 
tired,  stay  at  home  and  read.  It  will  be  restful 
to  you." 

Dr.  Farington  had  been  standing  by  the  fire* 
apparently  in  one  of  his  brown  studies,  but  he 


148  SMALL  THINGS. 

turned  now,  and  crossed  over  to   Frank's  win- 
dow. 

"  My  daughter,  will  any  one  in  the  world  be 
better  for  your  staying  at  home  to-night  ? "  he 
asked. 

"  Will  any  one  be  any  bettor  for  my  going  ?  " 

"  That  is  with  yourself.  You  can  let  your 
light  shine  or  not,  as  you  choose." 

"  What,  papa,  at  a  sociable  ? " 

"  Certainly.  A  faithful  servant  will  always 
be  looking  out  for  opportunities  to  do  the  Mas- 
ter's work,  and  1  think  you  can  find  it  even  at 
a  Church  sociable.  There  are  always  some  who 
need  to  be  entertained,  some  to  be  drawn  out, 
and  some  to  be  cheered  and  enlivened." 

"Well,  I  never  thought  of  finding  God's 
work  at  such  places,  mere  pleasure  gatherings." 

"  You  will  find  as  many  aching  hearts  at 
pleasure  gatherings  as  anywhere  else.  Frank, 
if  we  are  to  be  useful  in  this  life,  we  cannot 
hold  ourselves  aloof  from  society.  We  all  have 
gifts  of  some  kind,  and  we  are  bidden  to  use 
them.  They  will  be  required  of  us." 

"  Then  you  think  I  ought  to  go  to  the  socia- 
ble to-night  ? " 

"  Think  of   it  as  a  part  of  God's  world  and 


TRIFLING  WITH  SOULS.  149 

give  heed  to  what  your  conscience  says,"  was 
the  quiet  answer. 

''I  do  hope  Frank  Farington  will  come," 
Mrs.  Mason  was  saying  to  her  husband  at  that 
moment.  "  She  has  the  gift  for  entertaining 
people,  which  takes  the  responsibility  off  my 
shoulders." 

But  Frank's  "gift"  did  not  manifest  itself 
that  night. 

"  How  can  I  help  others  when  I  need  to  be 
helped  so  sadly  myself?"  she  questioned,  dis- 
contentedly, as  she  seated  herself  in  a  quiet  cor- 
ner. All  the  small  talk  and  light  laughter  was 
to  her  like  sounding  brass. 

"Miss  Fariugton,  how  happens  it  that  you 
are  a  wall-flower  ?"  asked  a  voice  behind  her,  and 
"Will  Cameron's  fair  head  leaned  over  her  sofa. 

"  Wall  -  flowers  are  not  wholly  devoid  of 
sweetness,"  she  laughed.  "  It  is  through  neg- 
lect, often,  that  they  blush  unseen." 

"And  waste  their  sweetness,"  he  finished,  seat- 
ing himself  beside  her.  "Don't  you  do  that, 
Miss  Frank." 

"  No  danger.  It  is  a  pleasure  to  me  to  watch 
the  people.  How  happy  Nel  Lewis  is  to-night, 
and  Howard  Delano  is  a  new  man.  Mrs.  Mason 


150  SMALL  THINGS. 

is  in  her  element,  and  there  is  my  protege,  Edith 
Monroe.  What  a  lovely  color  she  has,  and  how 
her  eyes  shine." 

"  She  has  improved  wonderfully.  When  she 
first  came  here  to  teach  she  was  positively  dole- 
ful. Mr.  Milburn  has  wrought  the  transforma- 
tion, I  suspect." 

"  Happiness  has  wrought  it." 

"  Happiness !  "  said  the  young  man,  with  an 
accent  of  great  bitterness.  "  To  those  of  us 
who  have  seen  the  frail  foundation  on  which  it 
is  built,  the  very  mention  of  the  word  is  heart- 
sickening.  How  can  we  enjoy  our  one  brief  day 
of  delight  when  we  know  that  we  must  pay  for 
it  by  a  thousand  days  of  misery  ?" 

Frank's  eyes  were  wide  open  and  eager.  She 
spoke  entreatingly  : 

"  Don't  give  way  to  such  feelings.  You  are 
too  young  to  speak  so  despairingly.  Bright 
days  will  come  again.  After  winter  followeth 
summer,  after  night  day  returneth,  and  after 
the  tempest  a  great  calm." 

"  Thank  you,  Miss  Frank,  but  it  is  better  for 
some  hearts  that  they  should  not  hope,  because 
constant  hoping  is  constant  disappointment. 
:This  is  strange  doctrine  to  you,  because  your 


TKIFLING  WITH  SOULS.  151 

life  has  not  yet  been  marred.  Do  you  know  I 
came  here  to-night  for  the  sole  purpose  of  meet- 
ing you.  You  refresh  me  like  a  bed  of  vio- 
lets which  one  meets  in  a  wearisome  journey. 
My  days  and  nights  are  full  of  misery — Ah !  I 
did  not  expect  to  see  her  here." 

Frank's  eyes,  following  the  direction  of  his, 
beheld  Lily  Sherwood,  looking  very  lovely  in  a 
dress  of  some  soft,  dark  material  with  laces 
white  as  a  snow-drift  at  her  throat,  and  a  cluster 
of  daisies  in  her  hair.  Looking  from  her  to  the 
young  man  at  her  side,  she  saw  that  his  face  had 
grown  hard  and  set  again. 

"  Will  Cameron,"  she  said,  the  light  of  a  sud- 
den resolution  shining  in  her  dark  eyes,  "are 
you  going  to  let  that  little  compound  of  heart- 
lessness  and  vanity  blight  and  spoil  your  whole 
life?" 

"  I  have  no  power  in  the  matter,"  he  said, 
sadly ;  "  I  would  give  worlds  if  I  could  tear  the 
love  of  her  out  of  my  heart,  but  I  cannot  do  it. 
God  knows  I  have  tried  !  " 

"  Can  you  not  go  away  for  a  while  ?  If  you 
were  interested  in  some  occupation,  you  might 
succeed  in  living  it  down.  Hard  work  is  said 
to  be  a  cure  for  mental  depression." 


152  SMALL  THINGS. 

"  Haven't  I  tried  it  ?  I  had  a  fine  position  in 
Chicago,  and  was  partially  recovering  from  my 
weakness  when  she  lured  me  back  to  her  again  ; 
and  what  for?  Simply  to  gratify  her  inordinate 
vanity.  It  was  the  height  of  folly  in  me  to  be 
so  deceived ;  but  what  the  heart  hopes  the 
brain  easily  accepts.  And  now  it  is  too  late. 
The  mischief  has  been  wrought.  I  doubt  if  I 
can  ever  get  back  to  where  I  was  again." 

"  O  yes,  you  can,  if  you  apply  your  whole 
strength  to  the  effort.  If  you  have  been  weak 
before,  now  is  your  time  to  be  strong.  I  believe 
the  will  has  more  power  in  these  things  than 
we  are  aware  of,  if  it  is  properly  exercised.  In 
this  case,  the  head  should  be  made  to  rule  the 
heart,  if  possible." 

He  shook  his  head  sadly. 

"  It  is  not  possible.  I  know  myself  too  well. 
I  may  succeed  in  outliving  the  effects  of  my 
passion  to  that  extent  which  will  render  life  not 
an  utter  failure,  but  my  love  I  can  never  con- 
quer. It  has  grown  with  my  growth,  and  en- 
twined itself  into  every  fiber  of  my  being. 
Strange,  too,  that  I,  so  fickle  and  easily  influ- 
enced in  all  other  matters,  should  continue 
steadfast  and  unmovable  in  this." 


TRIFLING  WITH  SOULS.  153 

Mrs.  Mason's  sharp  eyes  had  been  sweeping 
the  room  for  several  moments.  At  this  junct- 
ure they  caught  the  object  of  their  search,  and 
she  made  her  way  to  Frank's  quiet  corner. 

"  Come,  come,  my  dear,  do  not  imagine  that 
you  are  to  spend  the  evening  in  obscurity.  I 
have  heard  several  inquiries  for  you,  and  there 
seems  to  be  a  universal  desire  for  some  singing." 

Frank  arose  with  a  sigh  and  followed  the 
lady  to  the  piano.  She  played  and  sang  me- 
chanically. Her  thoughts  were  all  with  Will 
Cameron,  and  in  her  heart  she  was  beseeching 
God  to  give  her  words  to  speak  to  him  which 
should  make  him  strong. 

Dr.  Vail  had  been  leaning  upon  the  piano, 
intently  regarding  her. 

"  Miss  Frank,  whither  is  the  soul  departed  out 
of  your  voice  to-night  ? "  he  asked,  as  she  arose. 

"  It  is  engaged  in  a  matter  of  greater  impor- 
tance. I  want  to  think." 

"  Much  study  is  a  weariness  of  the  flesh.  I 
am  afraid  you  do  too  much  thinking." 

"  It  is  better  to  err  in  that  direction  than  the 
other,"  she  said,  lightly,  as  she  passed  on. 

"  Frank,  come  into  the  conservatory  with  me," 
said  Lily,  meeting  her  toward  the  close  of  the 


154  SMALL  THINGS. 

evening.  "  I  want  to  show  you  the  new  cactus 
they  are  all  making  such  a  fuss  over." 

"  Now,  then,"  she  said,  when  they  were  alone, 
"  I  want  to  know  what  Will  Cameron  has  been 
telling  you  about  me." 

"  What  reason  have  you  to  think  he  has  told 
me  any  thing  ? " 

"  O,  I  know  he  has  !  You  might  as  well  tell 
me,  Frank." 

"  Excuse  me,  Lily,  I  do  not  wish  to  talk  with 
you  on  that  subject." 

"  And  why  not,  pray  ? " 

"  Because  'I  am  not  patient  enough." 

"  There,  I  knew. he  had  been  saying  something 
dreadful ? " 

"  It  is  dreadful,  Lily,  and  it  is.  discussed  by 
the  whole  village." 

"  I  don't  know  why.     What  have  I  done  ? " 

"  I  will  tell  you  what  you  have  done,"  said 
Frank,  with  startling  earnestness,  "you  have 
trifled  with  a  human  soul — a  soul  so  precious, 
that  Jesus  died  to  save  it." 

"  Frank  Farington,  how  you  talk  !  I  didn't 
ask  you  for  a  sermon." 

Frank  closed  her  lips  resolutely  as  she  bent 
over  the  plants. 


TRIFLING  WITH  SOULS.  155 

"I  have  done  nothing  more  than  every  one 
does/'  went  on  Lily,  uneasily.  "  He  ought  to 
have  known  that  I  meant  nothing  serious. 
What  could  I  do,  Frank  ? " 

"  Don't  ask  me.  I  tell  you  I  have  no  patience 
with  you.  Your  conduct  in  my  sight  is  dishon- 
orable and  contemptible  ! " 

u  Why,  ho\v  dare  you  talk  so!  What  do  you 
mean  ? " 

"  I  mean  that  you  have  almost  succeeded  in 
crushing  him,  and  it  is  a  fearful  thing  to  cause 
the  destruction  of  a  soul.  It  may  be  a  satisfac- 
tion to  your  vanity  to  know  that  you  have  taken 
the  heart  out  of  him;  but,  please  God,  we'll 
save  him  yet.  He  is  a  noble  young  man ;  I 
do  not  think  it  is  God's  will  that  he  should  per- 
ish at  your  hands." 

"  You  are  a  tine  talker,  Frank.  Perhaps 
you'll  take  pity  on  him  yourself." 

The  indignant  color  flused  Frank's  face  and 
brow,  but  she  checked  any  thing  that  would 
have  escaped  her  lips  by  turning  to  the  door. 

Lily  caught  her  hands  eagerly. 

"  Don't  go,  Frank ;  I  didn't  mean  it.  I  am 
not  so  bad  as  you  think  me,  for  I  love  Will 
Cameron  better  than  any  one  else  in  the  world." 


156  SMALL  THINGS. 

"  These  are  strange  words  from  Dr.  Tail's 
promised  wife." 

"  I  know  it,  but  I  don't  care  for  Dr.  Yail.  I 
can  never  love  him." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  ladies,"  said  a  voice  be- 
lil  .id  them ;  "  I  have  been  an  enforced  listener 
to  your  conversation.  I  was  sitting  behind  the 
orange-tree,  half  asleep,  until  aroused  by  your 
voices,  and  then,  I  must  confess,  that  great  as- 
tonishment and  intense  interest  held  me  spell- 
bound. I  consider  the  position  of  eavesdropper 
dishonorable  in  the  extreme,  but  in  this  case  I 
think  Providence  may  have  had  a  hand." 

The  young  ladies  turning,  startled,  beheld  Dr. 
Yail. 


"WAKREX.  1ST 


XVI. 

WARREX. 

"And  grasp  His  banner,  still 

Though  all  its  blue  be  dim  ; 
These  stripes,  as  well  as  stars, 

Lead  after  Him." 

went  home  that  night  in  a  tumult  of 
JL  pain  and  distress — distress  for  herself,  for 
Lily,  and  for  Dr.  Vail. 

She  had  prayed  that  she  might  do  good,  and, 
instead,  she  had  done  the  greatest  evil. 

"  How  stupid  in  us  not  to  have  discovered 
him,"  she  said,  mentally,  in  great  vexation,  as 
she  threw  open  her  window  and  leaned  out  to 
let  the  damp  night  air  cool  her  burning  cheeks. 

Ah,  how  unkind  her  behavior  must  have 
looked  to  the  clear,  honest  eyes  of  Dr.  Vail ! 
How  uncharitable  she  had  been !  With  what 
merciless  severity  she  had  denounced  poor 
Lily! 

"  I  have  put  a  barrier  between  them,"  she 
thought,  in  bitter  self-condemnation,  "  for  Lily 
would  never  have  made  that  confession  had  I 


158  SMALL  THINGS. 

not  provoked  her  to  it  by  my  harsh  invectives. 
O  \vhat  has  the  poor  child  lost  through  me  !  " 

And  then  her  heart  grew  suddenly  sick  with 
shame  as  there  flashed  into  her  brain  a  hint  of 
the  possible  construction  which  Dr.  Yail  might 
be  led  to  put  upon  her  course  of  action.  Per. 
haps  he  even  imagined  that  she  was  aware  of 
his  presence  in  the  room,  and  that  she  had  taken 
that  means  of  enlightening  him  with  regard  to 
the  character  and  life  of  his  betrothed.  Anx- 
iously she  went  over  and  over  the  conversation, 
trying  to  recall  every  word,  lingering  with  in- 
tense pain  over  each  little  detail,  until  suddenly 
something  whispered, 

"  Stop  worrying,  and  pray  over  it." 

Instantly  she  knelt  and  poured  out  her  whole 
soul  in  prayer. 

"  Dear  Lord,"  she  cried,  "  make  the  crooked 
straight  and  the  rough  places  plain  !  Thou  who 
seest  the  end  from  the  beginning,  have  com- 
passion upon  our  weakness,  and  take  these  im- 
perfect lives  of  ours  and  shape  them  for  thy 
glory." 

As  she  prayed  thus  there  stole  gradually  over 
her  restless  spirit  a  great  calm,  and  the  shadow 
of  God's  peace  settled  upon  her. 


WARREN.  .  159 

T>ut  she  had  no  desire  for  sleep,  and  it  was 
long  past  midnight  when  she  arose  from  her  po- 
sition by  the  window.  The  night  was  warm  for 
February,  and  a  light  rain  was  beginning  to 
fall. 

"  I  fear  I  have  been  very  imprudent  to  sit  so 
long  in  that  open  window  !  "  she  exclaimed,  in 
sudden  recollection.  "  Ah,  what  is  that  ? " 

The  air  was  full  of  smoke,  and  as  she  looked 
out,  a  sudden  blaze  of  light  streamed  upon  the 
clouded  sky.  Two  men  were  hurrying  past  the 
window,  and  she  caught  the  words, 

"  It's  Sherwood's  store." 

Frank's  heart  gave  a  quick,  hard  bound. 

u  Warren ! "  she  cried ;  and  without  a  thought, 
she  ran  down  stairs  and  out  into  the  dark 
street. 

"  He  always  spends  his  evenings  with  Ed. 
Bates,"  she  almost  sobbed,  as  she  hurried  along, 
"and  Ed.  sleeps  in  the  store;  he's  sure  to  be 
there.  O,  it  will  kill  mamma  if  any  thing  hap- 
pens to  him ! " 

The  streets  were  fast  filling  now  with  men 
and  boys,  and  bells  were  ringing  in  every  direc- 
tion, and  the  village  shone  red  and  lurid  in  the 
flame. 


100  SMALL  THINGS. 

There  were  many  curious  glances  directed  at 
Frank,  but  she  paid  no  heed  to  them  until  she 
felt  herself  suddenly  grasped  and  drawn  forward 
in  the  light  of  the  fire. 

"  Frank  Farington,  how  came  you  here !  "  ex- 
claimed a  familiar  voice  ;  "  are  you  walking  in 
your  sleep  ? " 

"  O,  Dr.  Lewis  ! "  she  cried,  with  tears  of  re- 
lief. "  I  came  for  my  brother.  I  am  afraid  he 
is  in  the  store.  He  was  not  at  home,  and  he 
often  stays  all  night  with  one  of  Mr.  Sherwood's 
clerks." 

"  My  dear  child,  there  was  no  one  in  the  build- 
ing, and — O  !  here  is  Warren  now." 

Warren  Farington  will  never  forget  his  sister, 
as  she  appeared  to  him  at  that  moment  between 
the  mist  and  the  flame.  Standing  in  the  midst 
of  the  rough  crowd,  in  her  pretty  evening  dress, 
with  flowers  yet  unfaded  in  her  hair,  and  her 
small  hands  clasped  in  an  agony  of  fear.  At 
the  sight  of  him  she  gave  way,  and  grasped  him, 
convulsively. 

"  O,  Warren,  my  little  brother,  I  thought — " 

"  Frank,  what  a  goose  you  are  ! "  he  inter- 
rupted, angrily.  "  You're  always  imagining 
things.  Now  you  must  go  home  directly. 


WARREN.  161 

People  will  think  you  are  crazy ;"  and,  drawing 
her  hand  through  his  arm,  he  hurried  away. 

"  What  ever  possessed  you,  Frank,  to  come 
out  here  in  the  rain  at  this  time  of  night,  or 
morning,  rather,  without  hat  or  shawl  ? " 

"  I  don't  know,  Warren.  I  thought  you  were 
asleep  in  the  burning  building." 

"  Pshaw !  what  fools  girls  will  make  of  them- 
selves ! " 

He  did  not  speak  again  until  they  had  reached 
and  safely  entered  the  house.  Then  he  turned 
upon  her  with  a  sort  of  subdued  earnestness. 

ik  Why  were  you  so  anxious  about  me  ?  It 
wouldn't  have  been  any  great  loss  if  I  had  met 
my  death  in  the  fire." 

"  O,  Warren,  what  are  you  saying  ?  What 
would  have  become  of  your  immortal  soul  if 
you  had  died  to-night  ? " 

"  Hard  to  tell ;"  and  he  laughed  discordant- 
ly. "  Frank,  do  you  know  I  set  that  store  on 
fire?" 

"  Warren,  what  do  you  mean  ? " 

"  Just  what  I  say.  There  were  half  a  dozen 
of  us  fellows  in  there  playing  cards.  We  had 
all  been  drinking,  and  somehow  or  other  I  up- 
set the  lamp,  and  it  exploded.  In  an  instant 
11 


162  SMALL  THINGS. 

every  thing  was  in  a  blaze.  If  any  one  of  ns 
poor  fools  had  been  sober  we  might  have  been 
able  to  put  out  the  fire  before  it  did  much  dam- 
age ;  but,  as  it  was,  we  had  scarcely  presence  of 
mind  enough  to  get  out  of  the  building  our- 
selves." 

Frank's  face  had  grown  very  white. 

'*  Papa,"  she  whispered ;  "it  will  break  his 
heart." 

"  I  know  it,  Frank  ;  I  cannot  face  the  music  ; 
I'm  going  to  run  away.  I  would  never  have 
come  home  at  all  if  you  had  not  been  there." 

"  Then  God  must  have  sent  me." 

"  Why  do  you  keep  on  clinging  to  me,  Sis  ? 
If  any  one  had  treated  me  as  I've  treated  you  I 
should  have  thrown  him  overboard  long  ago." 

"  I  will  never  throw  you  overboard,  Warren. 
Are  you  not  my  brother  ? " 

"Well,  what  of  it?  I'm  only  a  disgrace  to 
you.  I  have  always  been  a  bad  boy  ever  since 
I  can  remember." 

"  Then  it  is  time  to  change  your  course. 
Some  of  the  worst  boys  have  made  the  best 
men." 

Warren  stood  a  moment,  looking  irresolutely 
into  his  sister's  face. 


WARREN.  163 

"  What  would  you  advise  me  to  do  about 
this  ?  It  will  be  all  over  town  to-morrow,  and 
what  a  blaze  there  will  be!  Dr.  Farington's 
sou  at  the  head  of  the  disgraceful  affair !  My 
character  is  ruined  for  life,  Frank." 

"  Not  at  all.  You  have  committed  a  great 
wrong,  but  it  need  not  nave  that  effect,  unless 
you  weakly  yield  to  your  morbid  feelings.  If  I 
were  you  I  would  go  to  Mr.  Sherwood  to-mor- 
row, in  an  honest,  straightforward,  manly  way, 
and  tell  him  the  whole  story." 

He  looked  at  her  disdainfully. 

"  Frank,  sometimes  I  think  yon  are  a  little 
soft  Pray  tell  me  what  sense  there  wouid  be 
in  such  a  course  as  that?  To  go  sniveling 
around  Mr.  Sherwood  with  apologies  for  de- 
stroying his  property.  Can  I  ever  make  good 
liis  loss — probably  thousands  of  dollars  ? " 

"  His  loss  is  probably  less  serious  than  you 
imagine.  He  has,  doubtless,  a  heavy  insurance 
upon  his  property ;  and,  besides,  the  wind  and 
the  rain  are  against  the  fire,  so,  I  think,  a  great 
deal  will  be  saved.  But  be  that  as  it  may,  Mr. 
Sherwood  will  have  much  more  respect  for  you 
if  you  go  to  him  and  explain  the  matter  in  an 
honorable  way  than  if  you  sneak  off  in  silence, 


164  SMALL  THINGS. 

and  are  forever  hereafter  afraid  to  look  him  in 
the  eye." 

Warren  shook  his  head  sadly. 

"  I  cannot  do  it,  Frank.  He  would  only  be  the 
more  disgusted  Avith  me/' 

"  Xo.  If  Mr.  Sherwood  is  the  man  I  think 
he  is,  he  will  rejoice  at  the  first  token  of  return- 
ing manliness  in  you.  A  time  servant  of  Christ 
will  not  turn  aside  in  disgust  from  even  the 
most  shallow  and  unworthy  penitent." 

"  I  don't  believe  that.  Your  Christians,  I  have 
discovered,  are  gifted  with  just  as  much  human 
nature  as  the  rest  of  us.  They  put  on  very  sanc- 
timonious faces  in  church  and  make  long  prayers, 
but  they  will  go  right  from  the  very  prayer- 
meeting  where  they  profess  to  have  met  God, 
and  talked  with  him,  and  lo  and  behold,  before 
they  get  home,  perhaps,  they  are  quarreling  with 
their  neighbors,  or  grinding  some  poor  unfort- 
unate under  their  righteous  heels,  or  driving  close, 
hard  bargains,  and  selling  their  souls  for  dollars 
and  cents.  I  tell  you,  Frank,  I  haven't  a  par- 
ticle of  faith  in  the  magnanimity  of  Chris- 
tians. As  a  general  thing  they  are  the  most  un- 
kind, uncharitable,  and  unforgiving  class  in  the 
world.  The  only  difference  between  them  and  us 


1C5 

poor  dogs  is  that  we  are  too  honest  to  pro- 
fess what  we  do  not  live  up  to,  and  they  are 
not." 

Frank's  eyes  were  run n ing  over  with  tears. 

"  O,  Warren,  stop !  "  she  cried,  passionately  ; 
"you  are  judging  the  whole  Christian  world  by 
its  dark  side.  On  the  same  principle,  there  is 
no  gold  in  the  world  because  so  much  is  spu- 
rious." 

"Well,  there  may  be  a  small  number  of  the 
chosen  people  left,  but  they  are  hard  to  iind  iu 
this  day.  I  remember  once,  when  I  was  quite  a 
youngster,  hearing  a  gentleman  of  this  place, 
one  of  the  pillars  of  father's  Church,  address  the 
Young  Men's  Christian  Association  upon  the 
subject  of  imitating  the  example  of  Christ  in  all 
things.  It  was  a  stirring  and  finely  delivered 
oration,  full  of  broad  charity,  and  all  aglow  with 
Christian  zeal  and  enterprise.  It  moved  me  as 
nothing  had  ever  done  before.  Great  and  noble 
longings  for  a  better  life  took  possession  of  me. 
T  was  almost  persuaded.  Well,  the  next  day,  as 
I  was  lounging  in  that  man's  store,  it  happened 
that  a  lady  called  with  a  subscription  paper. 
She  was  trying  to  raise  a  hundred  dollars  to  aid 
in  educating  a  poor  young  man  for  the  ministry. 


ICG  SMALL  Tinxc;?. 

Well,  my  eloquent  gentleman  of  the  previous 
evening  argued  with  that  woman  just  one  hour 
upon  the  uselessness  of  her  scheme,  the  useless- 
ness  of  so  many  young  men  entering  the  minis- 
try, and  upon  his  own  poverty,  and  ended  by 
giving  her  lifty  cents — a  man  who  could  have 
given  fifty  dollars  and  never  missed  it.  I  tell 
you  that  settled  the  matter  with  me.  I  made 
up  my  mind  then  and  there  to  give  the  Church 
and  its  ordinances  a  wide  birth,  and  I  have  seen 
that  little  circumstance  followed  up  by  so  many 
of  a  similar  nature  that  I  have  never  had  much 
desire  to  change  my  determination. 

"  'What  is  that  to  thee?  Follow  thou  me,'" 
repeated  Frank,  with  great  emphasis.  ""Why, 
Warren,  if  I  were  a  young  man,  with  health 
and  strength  and  brains,  and  saw  these  incon- 
sistencies of  Christians  as  you  see  them,  instead 
of  allowing  their  influence  to  have  the  powui 
over  me  to  destroy  me,  I  would  go  to  work 
mind  and  soul  and  strength,  to  correct  the  evii 
which  their  influence  is  exerting.  "Why,  it 
seems  to  me,  I  would  use  every  power  of  my 
being  to  build  lip  what  such  lives  have  over- 
thrown." 

"Warren  smiled  bitterly. 


"WARREN.  167 

"  Ah,  Sis,  you  have  a  strong  imagination.  A 
fine  subject  I  would  be  to  do  good  in  this 
world.  Have  you  forgotten  that  an  hour  ago 
I  was  drunk  f  " 

"  No,  I  have  not  forgotten  it,  nor  have  I  for- 
gotten that  the  dear  Lord  said,  'Though  your 
sins  be  as  scarlet,  they  shall  be  as  white  as  snow.' 
Warren,  I  have  no  patience  with  any  one  who 
persists  in  thinking  that  because  he  has  done 
wrong  all  his  life  he  must  keep  on  doing  wrong. 
God  keeps  holding  out  his  gracious,  beautiful 
promises  to  you,  and  if  you  do  not  accept  them 
it  is  your  own  fault." 

"  Well,  well,  Frank,  do  go  to  bed.  You  look 
tired  to  death.  If  I  am  lost,  it  will  not  be  from 
any  stumbling-block  that  you  have  put  in  nay 
way." 


io8  SMALL  THINGS. 


XVII. 

STRENGTH. 

11  To  thine  own  self  be  true,  and  it  shall  follow,  as  the  night 
the  day,  thou  canst  not  then  be  false  to  any  man." 

DR.  YAIL  sat  in  bis  office,  liis  head  bowed 
upon  the  table  before  him,  in  deep  medita- 
tion. The  events  of  the  previous  night  passed 
in  rapid  succession  before  him.  They  had  fol- 
lowed each  other  so  closely,  from  the  scene  in 
Mrs.  Mason's  conservatory  until  the  breaking  out 
of  the  lire,  that  he  had  scarcely  found  a  quiet 
moment  to  look  matters  in  the  face  until  now. 

Over  and  above  all,  he  was  conscious  of  a  de- 
licious sense  of  freedom.  "  I  see  now  what  a 
burden  that  engagement  was  to  me,"  he  thought, 
"  and  yet,  I  wonder  that  it  was  possible  for  me 
to  be  so  deceived  in  any  one.  1  thought  she 
loved  me  with  her  whole  heart.  How  could  I 
have  been  so  conceited,  so  blind,  so  stupid  ! 
While  the  whole  town  was  talking  I  had  heard 
not  a  whisper.  What  a  sad  mistake  it  would 
have  been !  While  I  thought  in  my  unpardon- 


STRENGTH.  169 

able  blindness  that  I  was  saving  her  from  a  life- 
long misery  I  was  deliberately  drawing  her  into 
it ;  for  I  could  never  have  made  her  happy. 
She  had  wearied  of  our  engagement  already. 
What  a  life  it  would  have  been  for  us  both ! " 

The  door  opened  softly,  and  Max  Sherwood 
entered. 

u  Ah,  Yail,  I  thought  }*ou  were  out.  I  came 
in  to  look  at  a  book,  but  if  you  are  occupied  I 
will  go  away." 

"  No,  no,  Max,  sit  down.  This  has  been  an 
exciting  day." 

"  Yes,  but  matters  have  turned  out  ever  so 
much  better  than  we  expected.  Father  is  con- 
gratulating himself  all  over  to-night." 

"  Then  his  loss  is  less  than  he  thought  ? " 

"  His  insurance  nearly  covers  it.  Almost  ev- 
ery thing  of  great  value  was  saved  from  the 
store  ;  but  what  destruction  there  must  have 
been  if  the  wind  had  been  in  another  quarter! 
Why  a  clear  night  and  a  west  wind  would  have 
taken  half  the  village !  By  the  way,  Vail,  how 
do  you  account  for  the  fact  that  good  men  are 
blessed  with  such  scapegraces  of  children  ?" 

•'Ah,  my  friend,  that  is  a  question  old  as 
time.  It  is  one  of  the  mysteries." 


170  SMA.LL  THINGS. 

"  A  very  unhappy  one,  I  think.  Now,  if 
there  is  a  good  man  living,  it  is  Dr.  Farington ; 
and  if  that  boy  of  his  doesn't  bring  down  his 
gray  hairs  in  sorrow  to  the  grave  there  will 
have  to  be  a  sudden  change  in  him." 

"  He  cannot  be  all  bad,"  said  the  doctor, 
musingly. 

"No,  I  believe  there's  a  spark  of  manliness 
about  the  fellow,  too.  He  came  to  father  this 
morning  and  confessed  all  that  he  had  been 
guilty  of  in  the  affair.  He  did  not  seem  in 
the  least  inclined  to  shield  himself,  and  I  have 
never  seen  any  one  who  appeared  so  thoroughly 
penitent.  I  declare,  I  had  no  idea  there  was  so 
much  grace  left  in  the  fellow." 

"  What  did  your  father  say  ? " 

"  Why,  he  grasped  his  hand  in  the  heartiest 
kind  of  a  way,  and  exclaimed,  '  Warren,  if  this 
makes  a  man  of  you,  I  shall  never  regret  any 
losses  which  I  have  sustained  ! ' " 

"  Your  father  is  a  Christian  and  a  gentleman, 
Max." 

"  I  believe  it  now  as  never  before.  I  believe 
I  have  some  charity  and  generosity  in  my  nat- 
ure, but  I  must  confess  I  could  not  muster  up 
a  particle  for  that  young  scamp  this  morning." 


STRKNGTH.  171 

"There  is  no  way  in  which  a  Christian's  light 
shines  out  so  beautifully  as  in  charity  for  the 
failings  of  those  who  have  injured  him.  I 
wish  Dr.  Farington  could  have  been  spared 
this  trial." 

'•  I  do,  indeed !  That  boy  has  been  an  afflic- 
tion to  him  from  his  babyhood.  He  is  repaid 
for  it,  though,  in  his  daughter,  eh,  Vail ! " 

"  Yes,  she  is  a  delight.  Her  price  is  above 
rubies,  I  think." 

The  young  man's  face  flushed  hotly. 

"Vail,"  he  burst  out,  impulsively,  "yon  are 
a  man  of  sense ;  tell  me  what  to  do.  I  was  fool 
enough  to  think  I  could  win  Frank  Farington. 
I  asked  her  to  be  my  wife." 

A  sudden  sharp  pang  shot  through  the  doc- 
tor's stout  heart. 

"  Well  2 "  he  asked,  steadily. 

"  She  told  me  to  wait  a  year.  I  wonder  if  she 
had  any  idea  what  it  is  to  wait  three  hundred 
and  sixty-five  days,  vibrating  between  hope 
and  fear.  I  would  never  do  it  again  for  any 
woman." 

"  Nor  I.  I  would  have  insisted  upon  a  final 
and  decisive  answer  as  once.  There  is  nothing 
that  wears  out  body  and  soal  like  suspense." 


172  SMALL  THINGS. 

"  I  know  it ! "  exclaimed  Max,  starting  from 
his  chair  and  turning  to  the  door  ;  "  it  is  killing 
me  by  inches.  I'll  not  bear  it  another  moment  ? 
I  will  go  to  her  at  once,  and  have  the  matter 
settled,  in  one  way  or  the  other,  forever ! " 

Fifteen  minutes  later  he  appeared  to  Frank, 
who  was  sitting  at  the  piano  playing  low,  sad 
melodies  to  the  dying  day.  lie  had  not  called 
before  since  he  had  asked  her  to  be  his  wife. 

"  I  could  not  wait  any  longer,"  he  said,  ex- 
plosively. "  The  year  is  almost  up ;  surely  you 
must  know  your  own  heart  by  this  time.  It  has 
been  a  terrible  year  to  me.  I  have  borne  the 
suspense  long  enough.  I  must  have  my  answer 
to-night," 

"  Max,  dear  Max  I "  she  cried,  with  a  sudden 
rush  of  sympathy,  "  why  did  you  not  come 
before  ?  I  thought  you  had  forgotten." 

"  Forgotten ! "  I  never  forget  for  a  moment. 
Answer  me,  yes  or  no,  at  once,  Frank.  If  it  is 
7i6>,  I  am  man  enough  to  bear  it." 

Frank  looked  at  him  thoughtfully.  For  a 
moment  she  was  sorely  tempted.  If  she  ac- 
cepted him,  a  life  of  ease,  wealth,  and  luxury 
lay  before  her.  She  would  be  shielded  and 
guarded  by  the  tenderest  love.  She  was  so 


STRENGTH.  173 

weary,  so  sore-hearted,  so  alone,  to-night,  why 
should  she  not  give  herself  to  this  young  man, 
to  be  sheltered  and  cared  for  all  her  life  ? 

"  Plow  can  I  do  this  great  wickedness  and  sin 
against  God?" 

The  words,  flashing  before  her  like  sparks  of 
light,  checked  that  other  word  which  she  had 
almost  spoken. 

'*  I  cannot  be  your  wife,  Max.  I  love  you  as 
a  dear  brother,  nothing  more." 

"  The  rest  will  come.  You  require  too  much 
of  yourself." 

"  It  will  never  come  to  me,"  she  said,  sadly ; 
"•  I  must  not  take  upon  myself  vows  which  I 
know  I  have  not  the  ability  to  perform.  If  I 
cannot  give  you  my  whole  heart,  I  cannot  be 
your  wife." 

"  I  will  be  satisfied  without  it." 

"  No,  you  will  not.  You  are  worthy  of  a  true 
wife,  Max,  and  you  will  find  her  some  day.  I 
see  much  in  your  character  that  I  admire,  much 
that  I  love.  If  it  were  in  my  power  to  do  so,  I 
would  give  you  all." 

He  looked  at  her  a  moment  steadily ;  then 
the  light  of  a  sudden  revelation  broke  over  him. 

"•  Frank,  there  is  some  one  else  that  you  care 


174  SMALL  THINGS. 

for.  How  blind  I  have  been  not  to  have  seen 
it  before ! " 

"  Yes,  there  is  some  one  that  I  care  for,  but 
he  cares  nothing  for  me.  I  shall  probably  never 
marry  any  one." 

He  stared  at  her  incredulously. 

"It  cannot  be  possible  that  any  man  in  his 
senses  could  be  such  a  fool !  I  don't  believe  it." 

"It  is  true,  nevertheless.  What  a  pity  it  seems 
that  we  cannot  control  our  affections ! " 

"Then  I  must  bid  you  a  final  adieu,"  he  said, 
rising. 

"  By  no  means.  You  are  my  best  friend,  now 
and  always.  You  will  outgrow  this,  Max.  Per- 
haps freedom  of  intercourse  will  the  sooner 
enable  you  to  do  so.  The  more  you  see  of  me 
the  less  you  will  like  me." 

"  I  think  not ;  but  I  will  try  the  remedy 
wheii  I  am  strong  enough." 


CLOSEU  TO  GOD.  175 


XYIII. 

CLOSER  TO  GOD. 

"  Come  with  tliy  great  unrest, 

Thy  pain  unfold ; 
Come  witn  life's  problems  vexed, 

And  truth  behold; 
Come  through  the  golden  sea 
Of  Chru-t's  dear  love  for  thee, 

Closer  to  me." 

SUNDAY  morning  came,  with  a  cold,  gray, 
pitiless  sky  and  a  fine  mist  of  snow-flakes, 
driven  to  and  fro  in  the  bitter  wind. 

Lily  Sherwood  was  gazing  out  into  the  storm 
with  troubled  eyes.  Life  had  become  a  sudden, 
stern  reality  to  the  spoiled,  petted  child.  Plain, 
hard,  bitter  truths  had  been  squarely  dealt  out 
to  her,  and  she  saw  her  character  in  a  new  and 
unpleasant  light. 

During  the  short  interview,  in  which  he  had 
released  her  from  her  engagement,  Dr.  Vail 
had  not  scrupled  to  give  her  his  opinion  of 
her  conduct  in  terms  none  the  less  scathing 
because  of  their  gentleness.  Dr.  Vail  never 
forgot  that  lie  was  a  gentleman  ;  but,  when  the 


176  SMALL  THINGS. 

occasion  demanded,  he  could  be  exceedingly 
severe. 

Through  all  her  short  nineteen  years  of  exist- 
ence Lily  had  considered  herself  a  privileged 
character.  Her  own  beauty,  and  her  father's 
wealth  and  position,  she  had  supposed  to  be  a 
cloak  sufficient  to  hide  every  deformity  of  char- 
acter, and  render  her  an  object  of  admiration  in 
spite  of  any  error  which  she  might  commit. 
To-day  she  was  looking  upon  her  life,  not 
through  the  rose-colored  gauze  of  her  own  self- 
conceit,  but  as  it  appeared  to  the  clear  gaze  of 
those  who  loved  honor  and  principle  better  than 
self-gratification  or  outward  show.  The  revela- 
tion was  by  no  means  an  agreeable  one,  and  the 
young  lady,  never  before  having  been  called 
upon  to  look  disagreeable  matters  in  the  face, 
was  in  a  state  of  unusual  discontent. 

"A  stormy  Sunday,  of  all  things,"  she  mut- 
tered pettishly ;  "  it's  enough  to  give  one  the 
horrors.  I  don't  care ;  I  wont  stay  in  the  house 
all  day,  any  way." 

Obeying  a  sudden  impulse,  she  opened  her 
writing-desk,  took  out  a  dainty  sheet  of  per- 
fumed paper,  and,  with  flushed  cheeks  and  trem- 
bling hands,  wrote  : 


CLOSER  TO  GOD.  177 

"  DEAR  WILL  :  I  have  something  of  the  great- 
est importance  to  say  to  you.  Do  over-look  the 
past,  if  you  can,  and  come  to  me  to-night. 

"  Yours,  LILY." 

She  folded  the  sheet  resolutely,  placed  it  in 
an  envelope,  sealed  it,  and  began  making  hasty 
preparation*  for  church. 

u  Von  are  surely  not  going  out  to-day,  my 
dear ! "  said  Mrs.  Sherwood,  looking  up  from 
-her  sofa  as  her  daughter  entered  the  drawing 
room  enveloped  in  velvet  and  furs. 

"  I  surely  am,"  said  Lily,  decidedly,  as  she 
buttoned  her  gloves. 

"  My  child,  I  cannot  permit  it.  It  is  going 
to  be  a  terrible  storm,  and  you  complained  of 
your  throat  last  night." 

T>ut  the  dutiful  daughter  interrupted  her  with 
a  "  Ta,  ta,  mamma,"  and  went  resolutely  out  in 
the  storm." 

u  I  cannot  think  what  possesses  her,"  said  the 
mother,  anxiously.  "  Max,  go  after  her  and 
bring  her  back,  can't  you  ? " 

"  That  would  be  impossible  without  resorting 
to  main  force ;  but  I  will  go  to  church  and  see 

that  she  gets  back  all  right" 
12 


178  SMALL  THINGS. 

At  the  parsonage  Dr.  Farington  was  looking 
out  at  the  storm  in  some  perplexity. 

"  I  have  spent  a  week  of  hard  study  upon  my 
sermon  for  to-day,  Alice,"  lie  said  ;  "but  as  the 
audience  will,  doubtless,  be  very  small,  perhaps 
I  had  better  lay  it  aside  until  next  Sunday.  I 
had  prepared  it  with  special  reference  to  certain 
individuals  who,  I  have  no  doubt,  will  prefer 
the  chimney  corner  to  the  pew  to-day." 

"  My  dear,  there  will  be  nobody  out  to-day, 
and  you  are  not  very  well,  suppose  you  stay  at 
home.  If  there  are  a  few  brave  enough  to  face 
a  storm  like  this  they  can  have  a  prayer-meet- 
ing." 

The  minister  looked  at  his  small  wife  in  sur- 
prise. 

"  My  dear,  did  you  ever  know  me  to  neglect 
a  service  on  account  of  storm  in  all  my  twenty- 
five  years'  ministry  ?" 

"  I  do  not  believe  there  was  ever  quite  so 
disagreeable  a  Sunday  before.  You  may  de- 
pend upon  it,  there  will  not  be  a  dozen  people 
out." 

"  Does  that  consideration  excuse  me  from 
being  about  my  Father's  business,  little 
wife?" 


CLOSER  TO  GOD.  170 

"  Of  course  you  will  go,"  she  said,  pouting 
slightly,  as  she  Lad  been  wont  to  do  in  the  far- 
away days  of  her  girlhood ;  but  her  smile  was 
very  teuder  and  loving,  nevertheless. 

"  I  think  you  would  be  excusable,  though,  in 
staying  at  home,"  said  the  minister  to  his  daugh- 
ter, who  stood  fastening  the  clasp  of  her  cloak? 
abstractedly. 

Frank  shook  her  head  with  a  laugh. 

"  There,  papa,  don't  go  against  your  o\vn 
principles  and  tempt  me  to  disregard  mine.  I 
have  no  faith  in  your  fair-weather  Christians. 
AVhen  I  see  people  neglecting  their  every-day 
business  for  a  storm  I  will  excuse  them  from  at- 
tending to  the  duties  of  the  Sabbath,  not  be- 
fore." 

^Yarreu  had  been  sitting  before  the  fire,  pre- 
tending to  read,  but  in  fact  listening  intently  to 
every  word  that  was  passing.  He  arose  now 
and  went  for  his  overcoat. 

"Since  you  are  determined  to  face  the  nor'- 
easter,  Frank,  I  will  have  to  go,  too,  or  you  will 
be  carried  away  in  the  blast." 

The  large  church  looked  wide  and  lonesome 
to  the  faithful  pastor  as  he  went  in  out  of  the 
iierce  storm  that  morning.  For  an  instant  the 


180  SMALL  THINGS. 

idea  of  ascending  tlie  pulpit  and  preaching  to  so 
small  an  audience  as  he  saw  before  him  seemed- 
almost  ludicrous;  but  the  organist  was  pressing 
the  keys  very  gently,  and  soft,  rich  waves  of 
melody,  floating  through  the  vacant  aisle,  soothed 
and  calmed  him,  and  as  he  bowed  his  head  in 
silent  petition  to  the  great  Comforter,  his  heart 
grew  suddenly  light  and  joyous,  as  though  sum- 
mer sunshine  had  been  flooding  the  outside 
world.  When  he  read  the  opening  hymn, 

"  Love  divine,  all  love  excelling, 
Joy  of  heaven  to  earth  come  down," 

all  within  sound  of  his  voice  caught  its  hearty 
ring,  and  were  inspired  by  it,  so  that  their  voices 
arose  in  a  chorus  full,  strong,  and  almost  tri- 
umphant. 

Did  Dr.  Faringtou  see  the  souls  of  his  people 
that  morning — many  of  them  weary,  struggling, 
tempted,  and  tried,  sick  unto  death  some  of 
them,  some  almost  forsaken  ?  No,  but  the  dear 
Lord  saw,  and  he  spoke  to  them  through  the  lips 
of  his  servant. 

Laying  aside  his  carefully-prepared  manu- 
script he  arose  and  repeated  those  dear  old 
words  that  have  quieted  restless  hearts  for  ages : 


CLOSER  TO  GOD.  181 

"  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  t?iat  labor  and  are  heavy- 
laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest." 

The  discourse  which  followed  was  short,  ear- 
liest, practical.  It  was  characteristic  of  Dr.  Far- 
ington  that,  though  inclined  to  be  poetical,  he 
never  forgot  to  be  practical.  .Nearly  all  his 
hearers  to-day  were  young,  and  it  was  in  the 
youth  of  his  congregation  that  he  felt  the  deep- 
est interest.  He  was  one  of  those  men  who 
never  grow  old,  who  never  bury  their  young 
sympathies  and  affections  out  of  their  sight  and 
forget  them,  but,  through  all  the  struggles  and 
conflicts  and  disappointments,  all  the  increasing 
growth  and  wisdom  of  manhood,  keep  within 
their  brave,  strong  hearts  those  fresh  blossoms 
of  the  spring-time,  ever  unfaded  and  beautiful. 
The  fires  of  his  own  youth  having  never  died 
out,  their  light  revealed  to  him  many  of  the 
precipices  of  sin  and  sorrow,  of  mistakes  and 
disappointed  hopes  over  which  their  young  feet 
were  dancing  so  lightly,  so  carelessly,  to-day. 

"  I  think  you  are  wondering,  some  of  you, 
why  this  promised  rest  is  not  yours  to-day  \ "  he 
said,  in  closing,  as  he  shut  the  Bible  and  gazed 
earnestly  into  the  young  faces  upturned  before 
him.  "  I  think  you  are  asking,  if  these  tilings 


182  SMALL  THINGS. 

be  true,  why  the  blessed  Lord  has  not  filled  your 
waiting  hearts  writh  his  gracious  light  and  glad- 
ness? Ah,  my  friend,  are  you  sure  yon  have 
earned  the  right  thus  to  question  God  ?  Rest  is 
for  the  weary ;  you  are  weary,  perhaps,  very 
weary,  it  may  be,  even  in  these  morning  hours, 
but  what  has  tired  you  thus  ?  Is  it  from  great 
strivings  to  do  the  Master's  good  pleasure,  or 
from  chasing  up  and  down  the  world  in  pursuit 
of  the  ever-eluding  phantom  of  happiness  2  Is 
it  because  your  feet  have  been  swift  and  beauti- 
ful to  do  the  will  of  your  Father  in  heaven  that 
they  ache  so  over  the  roughness  of  the  road,  or 
are  they  sore  and  bleeding  from  the  pricks  of 
the  thorns  that  pleasure  ever  hides  beneath  her 
fairest  roses  ? 

"  O  what  blind  creatures  we  are !  How  we 
go  on,  heedlessly  crushing  under  our  ignorant 
feet  the  pearls  and  the  rubies  and  the  diamonds 
which  God  has  strewn  in  our  pathway,  and 
reaching  beyond  them  after  the  glittering  tin- 
sel and  dross  of  this  poor  world's  treasury ! 
Ah,  yes,  and  even  with  ruthless  hands,  put- 
ting aside  the  crown  of  eternal  rejoicing,  to 
grasp  the  brief,  fading  petals  of  these  frail, 
earthly  flowers ! 


CLOSER  TO  GOD.  183 

"  Did  you  ever  think  that  you  are  weaving 
webs  for  eternity  ?  Did  it  ever  occur  to  you 
that  these  young  lives  of  yours  are  exerting  in- 
fluences which  may  result  in  the  destruction  or 
the  salvation  of  immortal  souls?  Well,  it  is  so. 
There  are  eyes  watching  you  on  every  side,  weak 
eyes,  for,  O,  human  nature  is  pitifully  weak ! 
and  they  are  studying  your  character,  Christian, 
with  merciless  scrutiny,  day  by  da}7,  when  you 
know  it  not,  and  they  are  gathering  up  the  seeds 
that  you  scatter,  gathering  them  silently,  uncon- 
sciously perhaps,  but  gathering  them,  and  they 
will  spring  up  and  bear  fruit  either  to  your 
glory  or  your  shame  Are  you  sowing  seeds  of 
broad  love  and  Christian  charity,  of  kindness 
and  self-sacrifice,  of  purity  and  honor  and  truth? 
Or  are  you  sowing  seeds  of  selfishness,  evil, 
malice,  unkindness,  and  bitterness  ?  If  so,  you 
have  no  right  to  the  rest  which  God  has 
promised  to  his  people,  for  you  are  not  his 
people. 

"  O,  I  beseech  of  you,  cast  aside  your  weak, 
false,  sentimental  notions  of  life,  and  be  strong, 
be  sensible,  be  in  earnest.  Make  your  religion 
a  living,  practical  thing,  a  principle,  deep  and 
abiding,  that  casts  aside  all  selfish  interests  when 


184  SMALL  THINGS. 

the  cause  of  Christ  is  at  stake.  When  you  have 
thus  hidden  your  lives  with  God  you  will  have 
put  the  world  under  your  feet.  Faith  will  lift 
you  to  her  hills,  sunlit  with  blessed  promises. 
The  discordant  notes  which  must  ever  mingle 
in  all  these  earthly  songs  will  cease  to  vex  you, 
because  your  ear  of  faith  will  have  caught  di- 
viner strains.  And  when  at  last  your  lives  are 
spent  and  broken  and  mortally  wounded,  you 
surrender  into  the  hands  of  the  last  great  ene- 
my, you  will  go, 

>(  •'  Not  like  the  quarry  slave  at  night 

Scourged  to  his  dungeon,  but 

Sustained  and  soothed 
By  an  unfaltering  trust,  approach  thy  grave, 
I^ike  one  that  wraps  the  drapery  of  his  couch 
About  him,  and  lies  down  to  pleasant  dreams. '  " 

The  short  service  was  over,  and  only  the  great 
loving  heart  of  God  knew  all  the  weight  of 
blessing  it  had  wrought.  The  faithful  pastor 
was  ignorant  of  it,  but  there  was  a  wonderful 
lightness  at  his  heart  as  he  walked  home  through 
the  blinding  storm. 

"  You  look  happy,  my  dear,"  his  wife  said,  as 
he  came  in  and  stood  a  moment  before  the  fire. 
Frank  was  shaking  the  snow  from  her  hat. 


CLOSER  TO  GOD.  185 

"  We  have  been  on  the  mount,  mamma,"  she 
said,  with  her  bright  smile. 

Will  Cameron  went  out  of  the  church  that 
day  with  a  new,  strrange  peace  overflowing  his 
restless  heart  like  a  river ;  even  the  little  note 
which  Lily  Sherwood  had  tucked  into  his  hand 
in  the  vestibule,  though  it  had  quickened  his 
pulses  a  trifle,  had  been  powerless  to  destroy 
the  quietness.  The  world  had  changed  for  the 
weak,  kindly  young  fellow  during  the  past 
month.  lie  had  taken  rapid  strides  in  the  wis- 
dom which  makes  the  soul  strong.  And,  though 
his  heart  still  clung  to  the  object  of  his  boyish 
adoration,  he  had  discovered  that  life  was  livable 
without  her.  Therefore  it  was  no  love-lorn 
swain  who  presented  himself  to  Miss  Sherwood 
that  evening. 

"  Now  tell  me  what  you  mean,"  he  said,  with 
a  firmness  which  she  had  never  seen  in  him  be- 
fore. "  Your  trifling  with  me  is  at  an  end.  If 
you  have  any  thing  serious  to  say,  say  it  at  once." 

"  I  have  nothing  to  say  except  that  I  will 
marry  you  if  you  want  me.  Is  that  serious 
enough  ? " 

"  You  have  said  that  before.  It  amounts  to 
nothing." 


186  SMALL  THINGS. 

u  "Will,"  she  said,  with  a  sudden  gravity,  "  do 
not  judge  me  by  what  has  been.  I  believe  the 
former  things  have  passed  away.  Dr.  Faring- 
ton  said  this  morning,  '  the  best  gift  we  could 
offer  to  Christ  for  his  dying  was  an  earnest  life.' 
If  you  will  take  me  as  I  am,  I  will  be  true  to 
you." 

"  For  how  long  ? "  he  asked,  with  a  doubtful 
smile. 

The  brown  eyes  grew  solemn  and  fell. 

"  Until  the  day  of  my  death,"  she  said, 
slowly. 

When  the  young  man  went  out  into  the  storm 
again  it  was  with  a  bounding  step,  for  the  night 
had  become  light  about  him. 


PROVIDENCES.  187 


XIX. 

PROVIDENCES. 

"  Hast  thou  not  wisdom  to  enwrap 

My  waywardness  about, 
In  doubting  safety  on  the  lap 

Oflove  that  knows  no  doubt." 

storm  passed,  and  the  next  day  was 
JL  brilliantly  beautiful.  All  day  long  sleigh- 
bells  jingled  past  the  parsonage.  The  very 
air  was  merry  with  their  silvery  music,  for  the 
whole  town  seemed  to  have  "gone  mad  with 
the  joy  of  the  snow's  coming  down." 

Frank  wratched  the  gay  riders  as  they  hasted 
past  her  window  with  a  strange  discontent  tug- 
ging at  her  heart-strings. 

"What  is  the  matter,  my  daughter?"  asked 
her  father,  coming  upon  her  suddenly,  as  she 
sat  in  a  dejected  attitude,  her  eyes  fixed  dream- 
ily upon  the  far-away  snow-bound  hills.  "  Are 
you  sighing  for  the  far-off,  unattained,  and 
dim  \ " 

Frank  laughed  lightly. 

"Nothing   farther  off  or  more  unattainable 


188  SMALL  THINGS. 

tlian  a  sleigh-ride,  papa.  I  don't  know  what 
makes  me  so  foolish,  but  this  constant  dashing 
by  of  sleighs,  and  the  tintinnabulation  of  the 
bells  sets  me  wild;  it  always  did.  There  is 
something  so  exhilarating  to  me  in  the  swift 
ruoli  through  the  whiteness  and  brightness,  that 
the  very  idea  fills  me  with  an  unquenchable 
desire  to  be  on  the  wing  with  the  rest  of  them." 

"  Ah !  you  child.  Is  that,  indeed,  the  height 
of  your  aspirations  ?  I  am  encouraged  for  you, 
Frank.  Your  attitude  suggested  something  far 
more  serious." 

"  Where  are  all  the  young  men  ? "  asked  Mrs. 
Farington.  "  I  saw  Max  Sherwood  go  by  in  an 
elegant  cutter  alone.  I  thought  he  would  cer- 
tainly stop  for  you." 

Frank's  cheeks  flushed.  She  had  been  a  trifle 
hurt  at  this  neglect  of  Max's. 

"  He  might  have  taken  me  for  a  ride,"  she 
thought. '  ';  He  certainly  cannot  feel  any  resent- 
ment toward  me." 

"  And  there  is  Dr.  Tail,"  her  mother  contin- 
ued, as  that  gentleman  drove  slowly  past.  "  lie 
used  to  take  you  out.  Is  there  any  trouble  be- 
tween you  two,  Frank?  He  used  to  be  always 
running  in  and  out,  and  now,  we  scarcely  ever  see 


PROVIDENCES.  189 

him.  I  don't  believe  he  has  been  here  in  six 
months." 

Frank  felt  the  color  mounting  to  her  fore- 
head. She  was  thankful  that  Warren's  abrupt 
entrance  at  that  moment  prevented  the  neces- 
sity of  a  reply. 

"  I  say,  Sis,  don't  you  want  to  go  sleighing  ? " 
he  asked,  noisily. 

"  It  is  the  height  of  my  earthly  desires  at  this 
moment."  laughed  Frank. 

"  Then  go  and  get  ready.  I'll  have  the  sleigh 
here  in  live  minutes.  I've  got  the  prettiest  es- 
tablishment in  town  on  purpose  for  you." 

"  Thank  you,  dear,"  said  his  mother.  "  It  is 
so  good  of  you  to  think  of  your  sister.  I  was 
afraid  you  would  be  off  with  Ed.  Bates  or  some 
of  his  set." 

Warren's  face  was  very  grave  as  he  went  out, 
but  he  made  no  reply. 

"Suppose  you  stop  and  bring  Miss  Sarepta 
home  with  you,  Frank,"  said  Mrs.  Farington. 
"  The  weather  is  so  very  cold,  I  am  afraid  she 
is  scarcely  comfortable  in  her  little  cabin  to- 
day." 

"  O,  Warren,  how  delightful ! "  cried  Frank, 
gleefully,  as  the  boy  gave  his  pony  a  touch 


190  SMALL  THINGS. 

with  the  whip,  which  proceeding  sent  them  off 
at  a  flying  pace,  the  snow  crystals  breaking  over 
them  like  pearl  dust  and  the  sharp  air  sending 
quick  dashes  of  bloom  into  their  cheeks.  "  How 
good  it  is  to  have  a  brother." 

"And  how  good  it  is  to  have  a  sister,  Frank," 
he  said,  abruptly  reining  his  horse.  "  You  can 
thank  God  and  take  courage.  I  believe  he  is 
going  to  save  me,  after  all." 

The  loving  heart  gave   a  sudden  bound  of 


"  Warren  !  "  was  all  she  could  say. 

"  I  can't  talk  much  about  such  things  ;  I 
never  could,"  he  went  on  rapidly  and  rather  in- 
coherently to  say,  "  but  that  talk  of  father's  yes- 
terday, and  that  prayer  —  I  don't  know  how  any 
one  could  —  Well,  any  way,  I  made  up  my 
mind  that  I  was  done  serving  the  devil,  and 
would  serve  the  Lord  the  rest  of  my  days." 

"  O,  Warren,  this  is  blessed  !  May  the  dear 
Lord  help  you  !  " 

"The  Lord  will  help  me,  if  I  help  my- 
self; but  I  must  be  out  of  the  way  of  old  temp- 
tations. I  am  going  away,  Frank." 

"  Where  ?  "  she  asked,  quietly.  The  boy 
seemed  to  have  grown  all  at  once  into  a  man. 


PROVIDENCES.  191 

"  To  Washington.  Uncle  Vincent  offered 
me  a  place  in  his  office  when  lie  was  here  last 
fall.  I  have  written  to-day  to  accept  it." 

44  And  your  mind  is  made  up  as  to  a  profes- 
sion ? " 

"  Yes;  I  shall  study  law.  I  believe  I've  got 
brains  somewhere.  At  any  rate,  I  must  make 
an  effort  of  some  kind.  This  idle  life  is  rust- 
ing me  out." 

Frank  made  no  reply.  Her  heart  was  too 
full  for  speech  just  then.  Miss  Sarepta  stood 
at  her  window  watching  the  sleigh-riders  as  they 
drove  up  to  the  door. 

"  So  your  ma  sent  for  me,  did  she,  Warnie  ? 
Well,  now,  she  never  forgets  me,  does  she  ? 
She's  the  best  wife  a  minister  ever  had,  your 
ma  is.  I  was  a  tellin'  Mr.  Mil  burn  so  this 
mornm'.  He  dropped  in  to  see  how  I  was  farin' 
this  cold  spell.  Says  I,  'Dr.  Farington's  wife 
is  just  a  saint  on  earth.  And  she's  got  a  daugh- 
ter that's  growin'  up  exactly  like  her.'  I'll  be 
ready  in  half  a  minute,  Warren." 

The  sun  was  just  setting  when  they  reached 
the  parsonage.  Frank  and  Miss  Sarepta  paused 
a  moment  upon  the  piazza  to  take  in  the  glory 
of  the  sky  and  the  hills. 


192  SMALL  THINGS. 

"  How  beautiful  the  world  is !  "  cried  Frank, 
enthusiastically. 

"  It  'minds  me  of  the  New  Jerusalem,  where 
every  gate  is  a  pearl,"  said  Miss  Sarepta,  soft- 
ly. "  Well,  now,  it  does  seem  good  to  get  here 
once  again,"  she  said,  coming  into  the  cozy 
warmth  of  the  sitting-room.  "  I've  been  think- 
in'  about  you  all  day,  Mrs.  Farington.  The 
parsonage  is  just  the  snuggest  place  in  such 
weather.  Laws,  how  those  children  of  yours 
has  grow'd  up,  doctor !  There's  Warren,  most 
a  six-footer,  and  it  don't  seem  a  day  since  he 
wore  dresses.  Do  you  hear  from  Mamie 
often?" 

"Yes,  every  week.  She  is  enjoying  every 
moment  of  her  stay  in  Washington.  She  is 
taller  than  Aunt  Laura,  she  writes." 

"  You  don't  mean  it !  Why,  Frankie,  they're 
leaving  you  clear  behind !  Never  mind,  though, 
you're  a  match  for  'em  any  day.  What's  this 
I  hear  about  your  bein'  engaged  to  that  young 
Sherwood  ?  Hope  there  aint  nothin'  in  it.  I 
never  had  no  great  opinion  of  him,  he's  such  a 
light-headed  sort  of  a  fellow.  But  then,  laws ! 
we  haint  to  judge  about  sich  things !  I  was  a 
sayin'  to  Mr.  Milburn  this  mornin',  says  I, 


PROVIDENCES.  193 

'  'Taint  no  use  !  Now  I  had  set  my  heart  on  a 
match  between  you  and  Frankie  Farington,  and 
I  come  as  near  prayin'  for  it  as  I  ever  did  for 
any  tiling  of  the  kind  ;  but,  there,  you  see  how 
it's  turned  out.  Not  but  what  I  think  you'd 
a  done  better  if  you'd  a  taken  her,  but  the  Lord 
had  other  plans.  One  thing  I've  found  out. 
It  don't  do  no  good  to  interfere  with  young 
folks." 

Frank's  face  was  crimson,  but  she  could  not 
help  laughing. 

"  O,  Miss  Sarepta,  how  could  you ! " 

""  O,  I  feel  privileged  to  talk  quite  free 
to  Mr.  Milburn,  he  takes  every  thing  so  kind 
and  pleasant  like,  and  he  said  something  real  nice 
about  you,  too,  Frankie.  Says  he,  in  his  gentle 
way,  'Thanks,  Miss  Sarepta,  for  the  interest 
you  take  in  me.  Be  sure  that  I  fully  appre- 
ciate Miss  Farington.  God  is  keeping  her  for 
some  one  more  worthy  than  I.  The  man  who 
wins  her  ought  to  be  a  true  knight  and  a  gen- 
tleman.' " 

"  That's  so,  every  word  of  it ! "  said  "Warren, 
who  had  come  in  in  time  to  hear  the  last  re- 
mark. 

"  Yes,  so  it  is.  Ouly  I  do  hope  it  will  not  be 
13 


194  SMALL  THINGS. 

Max  Sherwood.  But  then,  laws!  There's 
nothin'  on  earth  so  queer  as  the  doin's  of  young 
folks  in  such  matters.  Now,  there's  that  Dr. 
Tail,  if  he  aint  a  Christian  gentleman  there 
never  was  one,  and  then  to  be  so  took  up  with 
that  little,  doll-faced  chit,  when  he  might  have 
had  the  queen's  daughter !  I  couldn't  help  say- 
in'  to  him  the  other  day  when  he  came  to  see 
about  my  rheumatiz,  says  I,  '  Doctor,  I've  been 
a  studyin'  and  a  studyin'  on  it,  but  how  in  the 
name  of  common  sense  the  Lord  ever  come  to 
choose  such  a  wife  for  you  as  that  little  Lily 
Sherwood  I  can't  make  out ! ' ; 

"  What  did  he  say  ? "  asked  Warren,  much 
amused. 

"Why,  he  laughed,  sort  o',  with  them  big, 
handsome  eyes  of  his,  and  says  he,  '  Aint  you 
layin'  most  too  much  to  the  Lord,  Miss  Sarep- 
ta  ? '  I  don't  know  whatever  he  meant,  but  I 
hope  it  wasn't  no  disrespect  to  the  Lord.  So  I 
went  on,  and  says  I,  '  The  Lord  directs  in  such 
matters  if  he  directs  any  thing,  and  his  ways  is 
not  our  ways,  and,  of  course,  it  haint  none  of 
my  business,  but  it  does  seem  queer.  There's 
that  Max,  a  light,  triflin'  sort  of  a  feller  he 
always  was,  and  they  say  he's  goin'  to  marry 


PROVIDENCES.  195 

Farington's  daughter.  Seems  to  me  you  young 
folks  is  iriakin'  most  dreadful  mistakes.'  And 
the  doctor,  he  didn't  say  nothin'  at  all.  He  only 
laughed  and  went  out.  And  now,  Frankie,  do 
give  us  some  of  your  sweet  music.  I  wish 
you'd  sing,  '  God  moves  in  a  mysterious  way.' 
Sing  it  all  through  if  you  can,  it  sort  o'  com- 
forts mo  like  when  I  get  riled  up  and  flustered 
with  thinkin'  of  these  things." 

And  Frank,  as  she  sung,  felt  her  own  soul 
"  sort  o'  comforted  like." 


196  SMALL  THINGS. 


XX. 

UNTO  THE   UTTERMOST. 

"Now  abideth  faith,   hope,  charity,  these  three;   but  the 
greatest  of  these  is  charity." 

M  rpHE  apple-blossoms  have  come  to  us  again," 
JL  wrote  Frank  in  her  Journal  one  morning 
in  May.  "All  the  air  is  full  of  their  dainty  sweet- 
ness. The  pure,  fresh  pink  and  white  darlings 
always  seem  to  me  like  happy  little  messengers 
which  our  heavenly  Father  sends  to  tell  us  that 
he  is  mindful  of  us.  Gathering  as  they  do 
every  spring-time  upon  the  rude  boughs  of  the 
crooked  old  apple-trees,  garlanding  and  trans- 
forming the  ungainly  things  into  marvels  of 
beauty  and  fragrance  such  as  kings  and  queens 
might  envy,  they  seem  bidding  us,  by  their  very 
rosiness  and  sweetness,  'Be  of  good  cheer.' 
For  if  God  so  clothe  them,  will  he  not  much 
more  clothe  us  ?  This  morning  they  are  speak- 
ing to  me  with  unusual  force,  for  it  is  my  friend 
Edith's  wedding-day.  I  like  to  see  every  tree 
and  shrub  coming  out  in  its  bridal  robe  to-day, 


UNTO  THE  UTTERMOST.  197 

and  rejoicing  with  us,  for  G  od  has  put  a  song  into 
the  mouth  of  one  of  his  down-trodden  ones.  It 
is  no  mean  gift  which  he  has  bestowed  upon  her, 
the  gift  of  such  a  heart  as  Mr.  Milburn's.  What 
a  happy  thought  it  is  that,  after  leading  her 
through  such  dark  and  troublous  ways,  the  gra- 
cious Father  should  suddenly  turn  and  place 
upon  her  bowed  head  the  crown  of  a  woman's 
life,  a  happy  marriage !  O,  the  world  is  in 
good  hands !  " 

She  closed  the  book,  laid  it  away,  and  began 
her  toilet.  The  marriage  ceremony  was  to  be 
performed  in  the  church  at  ten  o'clock,  Dr. 
Farington  officiating.  Already  Frank  could  see 
from  her  window  the  wedding  guests  were  as- 
sembling, the  street  in  front  of  the  church 
was  fast  filling  with  carriages,  and  gentlemen, 
ladies,  and  children  were  thronging  in  at  the 
doors. 

The  rich  strains  of  the  wedding  march  were 
pealing  from  the  organ  when  Frank  entered  the 
church. 

"  It's  a  happy  bride  that  the  sun  shines  on," 
whispered  some  one  to  her  as  the  music  ceased 
and  the  minister  began  speaking  in  low,  solemn 
tones  the  words  that  were  to  bind  the  happy 


198  SMALL  THINGS. 

conple  together  for  life  ;  and  Frank,  managing  to 
obtain  a  glimpse  through  the  crowd,  saw  that  the 
sun,  stealing  through  an  open  window,  was  lay- 
ing a  coronet  of  brightest  gold  across  the  bride's 
white  forehead.  As  for  Mr.  Milburn,  his  face 
fairly  beamed  with  subdued  happiness. 

"  I  declare,  he  couldn't  have  looked  any  hap- 
pier if  he'd  been  married  to  your  Frankie,"  whis- 
pered Miss  Sarepta,  regretfully,  to  Mrs.  Farington 
after  the  ceremony  was  over  and  the  bridal  party 
passed  out. 

"  He  seems  fully  satisfied,"  laughed  Frank's 
mother.  <k  But  I  hope  no  one  will  be  taking 
my  Frankie  very  soon,  Miss  Sarepta." 

Nel  Lewis  was  waiting  in  the  vestibule  for 
Frank.  She  was  pale  and  heavy-eyed. 

"  I  want  you  to  come  and  spend  the  day  with 
me,"  she  said,  grasping  Frank  in  her  eager 
way. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  " 

"Nothing,"  with  a  short,  unnatural  laugh. 
"  Wasn't  the  bride  just  beautiful !  Who  thought 
of  this  two  years  ago  ? " 

"  God  thought  of  it.    It  is  a  part  of  his  plan." 

"  Do  you  suppose  God  has  any  thing  to  do 
with  marriages  ? " 


UNTO  THE  UTTERMOST.  199 

"  If  I  did  not  I  would  pray  that  I  might  never 
be  married.  Think  of  trusting  a  matter  of  such 
life-long  importance  to  chance,  or  taking  the  re- 
sponsibility in  poor  human  hands !  " 

"  How,  then,  do  you  account  for  so  many  un- 
happy marriages  ? " 

"  I  do  not  account  for  them.  It  is  not  re- 
quired of  me.  I  leave  that  with  God,  who,  for 
some  purpose,  permits  people  to  make  mis- 
takes." 

"  Permits  !  Does  he  not  compel  them  to  do 
so?" 

"No.  God  is  not  tempted  of  sin,  neither 
tempteth  he  any  man.  Human  nature  is  weaker 
than  it  has  any  need  to  be,  but  we  have  no  right 
to  charge  God  with  our  foolishness." 

Nel  did  not  speak  again  until  they  had  reached 
the  quiet  of  her  own  room.  Then,  seating  Frank 
in  an  easy-chair,  she  threw  herself  upon  a  stool 
at  her  feet. 

"  Now,  Frank  Farington,  you  seem  to  be  pos- 
sessed of  more  sense  than  most  people,  and  I 
want  you  to  tell  me  what  to  do." 

"  About  what  ?  " 

"  About  Howard  Delano.  Father  still  obsti- 
nately refuses  his  consent  to  our  marriage." 


200  SMALL  THINGS. 

"  On  what  grounds  ? " 

"  O,  he  thinks  him  a  hopeless  case ! " 

"  Hopeless !  Howard  Delano !  Does  he  not 
know  of  the  change  in  him  ? " 

"  Knows  of  it,  but  has  no  faith  in  it.  The 
fact  is,  he  has  no  charity  in  his  nature.  Any 
person  who  takes  one  step  in  the  wrong  direc- 
tion is  forever  lost  in  his  estimation." 

"  Not  so  bad  as  that,  Nel.  Your  father  is  a 
Christian." 

"  Well,  perhaps  he  is  ;  but  he  has  none  of  the 
spirit  of  Christ.  He  has  heard  of  Howard's 
conversion  from  his  own  lips,  and  has  seen  him 
come  out  publicly  and  unite  with  the  Church, 
and  still  refuses  to  believe  any  good  of  him. 
He  says  it  is  the  result  of  an  impulse  which  will 
wear  off  when  the  excitement  dies  out.  He 
cannot  believe  in  such  sudden  changes." 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  !N~el." 

"  Sorry !  Frank,  Dr.  Lewis  shall  not  ruin  my 
happiness  for  life.  If  he  persists  in  this  I'll 
run  away,"  and  the  black  eyes  flashed  fever- 
ishly. 

"  Hush  !     Remember  he  is  your  father." 

"  Well,  I'm  not  to  blame  for  that,"  said  Nel, 
with  a  harsh  laugh.  "  I  tell  yon,  he  is  too  hard 


UNTO  THE  UTTERMOST.  201 

and  severe  with  his  children.  He  will  never 
crush  me,  though." 

Frank  gazed  at  her  friend  thoughtfully,  while 
a  sudden  purpose  was  forming  within  her. 

"  You  look  very  tired,"  she  said,  quietly. 

"Tired!  Yes.  I  never  slept  a  wink  last 
night,  and  I've  nearly  cried  my  eyes  out." 

"  You  must  give  it  up,  Nel.  "Worrying  doesn't 
do  any  good." 

"  What  is  the  use  of  telling  me  that  ? "  said 
Xel,  fretfully  ;  "  can  I  help  my  own  thoughts  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  think  you  can,  to  a  certain  extent. 
I  think  it  is  possible,  in  a  measure,  for  us  to  live 
out  of  ourselves.  Papa  says  the  true  secret  of 
happiness  is  self-renunciation." 

"  O,  those  things  are  all  well  enough  to  say. 
They  sound  brave  and  heroic,  but  when  one 
stands  face  to  face  with  a  living  trouble,  it  isn't 
so  easy  to  push  it  aside,  and,  like  the  Spartan 
boy,  to  smile  and  smile.  O,  Frank,  mine  is  a 
very  human  heart,  and  as  long  as  its  wants  are 
not  supplied  it  will  throb  and  ache  and  weary 
me  with  its  ceaseless  crying." 

"  Nel,  you  asked  me  to  tell  you  what  to  do," 
said  Frank,  firmly,  yet  soothingly  as  she  would 
have  spoken  to  a  fretful  child.  "  Now  I  will 


202  SMALL  THINGS. 

tell  you.  Just  lie  down  here  and  take  a  long 
nap." 

"  O,  I  can't.  I  want  to  talk.  It  relieves 
me  ?  " 

"  But  I  will  not  talk  to  you  now.  I  will  read 
though,  or  sing,  if  you  wish  it." 

"  Sing,  then.     Your  voice  is  a  blessing." 

In  ten  minutes  Frank  had  the  satisfaction  of 
leaving  her  friend  in  the  deep  heavy  sleep  of 
complete  exhaustion.  Hearing  Dr.  Lewis'  voice 
in  the  hall,  she  ran  down  to  meet  him  with  a 
resolute  step.  He  welcomed  her  cordially.  She 
was  a  great  favorite  of  his. 

"  Where  is  Nel  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Up  stairs,  asleep." 

"  Asleep ! " 

"Yes.  I  made  her  lie  down.  She  is  thor- 
oughly worn-out." 

«  How  ? " 

"  Trying  to  decide  between  her  father  and 
her  lover,"  said  Frank,  plunging  boldly  into  her 
subject. 

The  doctor's  face  hardened. 

"  I  hope  you  do  not  encourage  her  in  that 
nonsense,"  he  said,  hastily. 

"  Encouragement     and    discouragement    are 


UNTO  THE  UTTERMOST.  203 

alike  useless  in  an  affair  of  this  kind.  It  is  a 
matter  of  very  serious  import  with  her,  Dr. 
Lewis." 

"It  is  a  weakness  which  she  will  have  to 
overcome." 

"  She  never  will  overcome  it." 

"  Then  she  will  have  a  sad  life  of  it,  for  she 
will  never  marry  that  young  man  with  my  con- 
sent." 

"  I  am  afraid  she  will  not  obey  you." 

"  Then  she  is  no  daughter  of  mine." 

"May  I  ask  why  you  object  so  seriously  to 
him  ? "  asked  Frank,  gently. 

"  Object  to  him !  Why,  he  has  no  character. 
I  know  all  you  would  say  about  his  conversion. 
It  may  be  genuine  enough  just  now,  but  in  a 
year  he  will  be  back  at  his  old  habits.  It  is  im- 
possible for  a  man's  whole  nature  to  change  in 
a  moment." 

"  Is  it  not  possible  with  God  ? "  asked  Frank, 
softly. 

"  God  does  not  work  by  miracles  in  these 
days,  and  nothing  short  of  a  miracle  could  save 
Howard  Delano.  Why,  he  was  one  of  the  worst 
young  men  I  ever  knew.  Nel  doesn't  care. 
She  was  just  as  much  in  love  with  him  before 


204  SMALL  THING?. 

his  conversion  as  she  is  now.  I  haven't  a  par- 
ticle of  faith  in  him." 

Frank's  face  flushed  indignantly. 

"  Dr.  Lewis,"  she  burst  out  impulsively,  for- 
getting, in  her  haste,  that  she  was  addressing  a 
person  older  than  herself,  "  suppose  God  should 
receive  a  repentant  sinner  in  that  way,  what 
chance  would  there  be  for  any  of  us  I  Christ 
distinctly  says,  '  Whosoever  cometh  to  me  I  will 
in  nowise  cast  out.'  Are  we  holier  than  he  that 
we  have  a  right  to  cast  out  even  the  weakest 
soul  that  dares  approach  him." 

"  Your  argument  does  not  apply  to  this  case, 
Frank.  God  looks  upon  the  heart,  while  man 
sees  only  the  outward  appearance.  He  knows 
whether  the  repentance  is  sincere  or  not.  "We 
have  only  our  own  reason  to  judge  with.  It  is 
a  lamentable  fact  that  a  profession  of  religion  is 
coming  to  be  regarded  as  a  very  light  matter  by 
the  growing  people  of  the  present  day ;  at  least, 
we  must  infer  so  if  their  lives  are  to  be  con- 
sidered as  an  evidence  of  their  principles. 
Why,  the  behavior  of  many  of  our  young  con- 
verts is  bringing  such  actual  reproach  upon  the 
cause  of  Christ  that,  to  sensible  people,  it  has 
almost  ceased  to  be  a  matter  of  rejoicing  when 


UNTO  THE  UTTERMOST.  205 

one  comes  out  and  makes  a  profession.  I  do 
not  know  what  their  ideas  are,  but  when  I  see 
people  actually  ridiculing  what  they  profess  to 
believe  in  and  honor,  I  am  simply  disgusted." 

"  Dr.  Lewis,  I  beg  your  pardon,  but  is  it  just 
to  judge  the  character  of  one  individual  by  a 
class  ?  Are  you  very  sure  that  your  estimate  of 
Howard  Delano's  principles  and  motives  is  the 
correct  one  ?  It  is  now  nearly  a  year  since  he 
came  out  upon  the  Lord's  side,  and  he  has  be- 
haved most  consistently.  Even  if  he  had  fallen 
now  and  then,  is  it  not  required  of  us,  who  are 
strong,  to  encourage  the  weak  and  lift  up  the 
fallen,  instead  of  turning  away  from  them  in 
disgust?" 

"  You  plead  your  case  well,  Frank,"  said  the 
doctor,  with  a  satirical  smile.  "  I  believe  the 
young  fellow  is  a  favorite  with  ladies.  I  am 
sure  I  hope  that  he  will  hold  out,  but  I  am 
skeptical,  that  is  all." 

Frank  was  exceedingly  vexed,  but  she  con- 
trolled herself  and  ventured  one  more  plea  for 
her  friend. 

"  Surely,  sir,  you  will  not  condemn  him  un- 
conditionally. Can  you  not  permit  him  a  longer 
time  in  which  to  redeem  his  character  ?" 


206  SMALL  THING*. 

The  earnest  pleading  in  the  tine  eyes  haunted 
the  doctor  for  many  days,  but  if  their  elo- 
quence had  taken  any  effect  he  gave  no  sign 
of  it. 

"  It  is  useless  to  argue  the  point  any  further," 
he  said,  with  a  grim  smile  ;  "  when  your  hair  is 
as  gray  as  mine  you  will  have  learned  many 
things,  I  hope.  And  now,  if  you  please,  I  will 
listen  to  some  singing." 

Frank  turned  to  the  piano  with  a  sigh.  She 
had  failed,  then.  How  hard  it  was  to  do  God's 
work." 

She  struck  a  chord  or  two,  abstractedly,  when 
all  at  once  the  words  of  a  hymn  which  she  had 
been  teaching  to  her  Sabbath-school  class  came 
drifting  into  her  memory,  and  she  sang  it  in 
low,  distinct  tones,  bringing  out  the  wordo  softly 
but  clearly : 

"  There's  a  wideness  iu  God's  mercy, 

Like  the  wideness  of  the  sea : 
There's  a  kindness  in  his  justice, 

Which  is  more  than  liberty. 

"There's  no  place  where  earthly  sorrows 
Are  more  felt  tnan  up  in  heaven ; 

There's  no  place  where  eartlily  failings 
Have  such  kindly  judgment  given. 


UNTO  THE  UTTERMOST.  207 

"  For  the  love  of  God  is  broader 
Than  the  measure  of  man's  mind; 

And  the  heart  of  the  Eternal 
Is  most  wonderfully  kind." 

"  It  is  my  last  appeal,"  she  thought,  as  she 
closed.  "  If  those  words  do  not  move  him,  none 
of  mine  can." 

"  Keep  up  a  good  heart,  Nel,"  she  whispered, 
as  she  parted  from  her  friend  at  sunset ;  "  every 
thing  comes  in  time  to  him  that  can  wait." 


208  SMALL  THINGS. 


XXI. 

GOD'S  BLESSING. 

"  Life  hath  its  hopes  fulfilled; 
Its  glad  fruitions,  its  blest,  answered  prayers, 
Sweeter  Cor  waiting  long,  whose  holy  air 
Indrawn  to  silent  souls,  breathes  forth  its  rare, 
Grand  speech  by  joy  distilled." 

TJ1RANK  walked  Lome  wearily  in  the  fading 
JL  light.  Every  thing  looked  so  hopelessly 
hopeless.  The  long  years  stretched  away  be- 
fore her,  dim,  with  dark  probabilities.  0  the 
hills  of  pain  and  difficulty  which  she  must  climb 
before  she  could  reach  the  gates  of  pearl !  O 
the  rnists  of  unsatisfied  longing  and  heartache 
through  which  she  must  pass  before  she  could 
gain  the  purer  air  and  the  bluer  skies  and  the 
brighter  sunlight ! 

"  I  wonder  why  God  blights  the  lives  of  his 
own  people  with  such  unscrupulous  hands  ( " 
she  questioned,  fretfully,  in  her  impatient  heart. 
Has  he  no  compassion  ?  Surely,  this  constant 
'wailing  for  precious  things'  cannot  be  a  means 
of  grace  to  any  one !  Why  has  he  seen  fit  to 


GOD'S  BLESSING.  209 

withhold  from  me  the  good  which  lie  lavishes  so 
freely  upon  others  ?  Am  I  so  far  less  deserving  ? 
Where  is  the  use  of  trying  to  serve  him  when  he 
lays  such  heavy  burdens  upon  me  that  I  am  ham- 
pered on  every  side  ?  Surely  a  loving  Father 
must  see  how  weary  his  child  is  growing  !  " 

She  stopped  suddenly.  She  was  passing  Miss 
Sarepta's  little  cottage,  which  was  half  hidden 
now  under  the  apple-blossoms.  Somehow  she 
could  not  get  past  the  small  house  to-night. 
The  old  lady  sat  in  her  open  window,  trying  to 
read,  in  the  fast  gathering  twilight.  She  looked 
up  with  a  glad  smile  as  Frank  leaned  over  the 
window-sill. 

"  Ah,  I  was  just  thinkin'  about  you  !  I  was 
readin'  about  you,  Frankie." 

"  Why,  you  are  reading  the  Bible,  are  you 
not?"  * 

She  nodded,  and  held  up  the  book,  with  her 
finger  upon  a  passage. 

Frank  bent  near  and  read :  "  The  King's 
daughter  is  all  glorious  within  :  her  clothing  is 
of  wrought  gold.  She  shall  be  brought  unto 
the  King  in  raiment  of  needlework." 

She  drew  back,  slightly  shocked.     It  seemed 

eo  exceedingly  irreverent. 
14 


210  SMALL  THINGS. 

Miss  Sarepta  caught  the  displeasure  in  her 
eyes,  and  smiled. 

"  I  think  of  you  every  time  I  read  that  verse," 
she  said. 

"  I'm  afraid  you  do  not  understand  it,  Miss 
Sarepta." 

"  Well,  may  be  not,  but  I  always  supposed  the 
King's  daughter  meant  one  whose  daily  walk 
and  conversation  shows  her  to  be  the  daughter 
of  the  King  of  kings,  and  I  thought  she  must  be 
all  beautiful  and  glorious  within  or  she  couldn't 
be  always  sheddin'  such  a  pleasant  light  about 
her." 

Frank's  cheeks  flushed. 

"Ah,  Miss  Sarepta,  you  cannot  think  that 
description  applies  to  me !  Me,  so  full  of 
sinful  thoughts,  so  impatient,  so  willful,  so 
weak ! " 

"  If  you  have  any  of  them  qualities  you  keep 
'em  pretty  well  out  of  sight ;  that's  all  I've  got 
to  say.  Kow,  I  haint  one  to  flatter,  but  there's 
no  denyin'  that  you  are  a  young  lady  worth 
takin'  pattern  after.  There's  nothin'  pleases  old 
folks  like  little  kind  attentions  from  the  young. 
Most  of  the  gals,  when  they  come  from  board- 
in'-school,  put  on  sich  airs  and  graces  that  they 


GOD'S  BLESSING.  211 

spile  themselves  completely.  They  turn  up  their 
noses  at  an  old  woman  like  me,  and  poke  fun  at 
my  old-fashioned  clothes  and  ways.  I've  ketched 
'em  a  sneezin'  and  a  laughin'  when  I  come  into 
meetin'.  May  be  they  don't  know  how  such 
things  hurt ;  it's  likely  they  haint  no  idea  that 
a  poor,  uneducated  old  woman  has  got  feelings. 
Some  of  'em  ag'in  will  make  every  thing  of  me 
to  my  face  and  laugh  when  my  back's  turned. 
I  suspicioned  you  of  that  when  you  first  came 
home,  and  I  watched  you  mighty  close  for  a 
spell,  but  I've  found  out  that  there  aint  a  mite 
of  that  ere  spirit  about  you.  Respect  for  the 
aged  seems  to  be  a  quality  that  is  born  in  you. 
I've  took  notice  of  you  at  social  gatherings  and 
other  places  where  I've  been,  and  I  see  that  it 
don't  matter  how  many  young  men  is  hangin' 
around,  you  never  forget  the  old  folks,  but 
you've  got  a  word  and  a  smile  for  all  of  'em. 
I've  known  you  to  sit  and  listen  to  that  tiresome 
Mi's.  Matthews  while  she  went  over  the  whole 
list  of  her  complaints  that  no  one  else  had  any 
patience  to  hear;  and  once  I  saw  you  leave  a 
party  of  young  ladies  in  the  street  and  run 
across  to  open  the  gate  for  poor  old  lame  Billy 
Tompkins,  and  I  heard  him  mutter,  as  he  stood 


212  SMALL  THINGS. 

looking  after  you,  '  That's  a  lady  if  ever  there 
was  one.'  All  these  things  go  to  make  up  char- 
acter, Frankie,  and  it's  a  character  that's  beauti- 
ful, too." 

"  O,  Miss  Sarepta,  how  you  magnify  trifles  !" 
said  Frank,  with  a  laugh.  "  Those  are  such  very 
little  things." 

"  May  be  they're  little  things,  but  they  go  a 
great  ways.  It's  the  little  drops  of  water  that 
make  the  big  ocean." 

The  gate  clicked,  and  Dr.  Yail  came  up  the 
path. 

Miss  Sarepta  greeted  him  very  cordially,  but 
Frank  drew  back  with  a  slight  coldness.  She 
had  not  met  him  thus,  face  to  face,  since  the 
evenino-  at  Mrs.  Mason's. 

w 

He  declined  Miss  Sarepta's  invitation  to  en- 
ter, and  came  and  stood  beside  Frank  at  the 
window. 

"  I  stopped,  as  I  was  passing,  to  leave  that 
liniment  for  your  rheumatism,  but,  judging  from 
your  countenance  this  evening,  I  imagine  you 
are  not  suffering  from  pain  of  any  kind." 

"  No,  I  feel  first-rate  to-night.  Frankie  here 
is  as  good  as  a  dose  of  medicine  any  day,  Dr. 
Vail." 


BI.K.SSI.N.;.  213 

Frank  and  the  doctor  laughed  simultaneously 
as  their  eyes  met. 

"  If  that  is  the  best  thing  you  can  say  I'll 
never  come  again,"  said  the  young  lady. 

"  I  fully  agree  with  you,  Miss  Sarepta,"  smiled 
the  doctor ;  "  I  shall  prescribe  her  hereafter. 
In  fact,  I  don't  know  but  that  it  would  be  excel- 
lent policy,  for  my  patients,  finding  such  agree- 
able doses  dealt  out  to  them,  will  be  in  no  haste 
to  get  well,  and  thus  require  a  long  continuation 
of  my  visits." 

"I  don't  know  what  you  are  trying  to  get 
at,"  said  the  old  lady,  looking  from  one  to  the 
other  with  a  puzzled  air,  "  but  I  would  like  to 
tell  you  two  what  came  into  my  mind  at  the 
wedding  this  morning." 

"  We  are  listening,"  said  the  doctor,  gravely. 

u  Well,  they  say,  at  every  wedding  a  new — " 

"  Why,  how  dark  it  is  getting  ! "  interrupted 
Frank,  in  sudden  apprehension  of  what  was 
coining  ;  "  I  must  go  at  once." 

"  If  you  will  accept  of  my  poor  protection,  I 
will  be  most  happy  to  guide  you  through  the 
darkness,"  said  the  doctor,  obsequiously. 

Miss  Sarepta  smiled  quietly  as  they  walked 
down  the  path  together. 


214  SMALL  THINGS. 

"  You  wouldn't  let  me  say  it,  Miss  Frankie, 
but  that  brightness  didn't  come  in  the  doctor's 
eyes  for  nothing ;  he  understood  it." 

But  the  spell  of  silence  seemed  to  have  fallen 
upon  them  both  as  they  went  out  into  the  fra- 
grant dusk.  At  the  parsonage  gate  the  doctor 
found  his  tongue. 

"The  night  is  very  delightful,"  he  said,  "if 
yon  are  not  tired,  suppose  we  walk  a  little  far- 
ther. Don't  yon  want  some  apple-blossoms  ? 
There  is  a  tree-  full  of  beauties  upon  the  hill 
above  South  Street." 

There  was  a  strange  pleading  in  his  voice,  and 
Frank  assented,  wonderingly. 

"  Miss  Frank,  it  seems  like  a  very  long  time 
since  that  rainy  day,  the  day  I  told  you  my  story. 
H~ve  you  forgotten  it  ? " 

<lJNo,  but  I  have  always  regretted  that  you 
told  vne-J* 

"  Why  \  3*  fce  asked,  bending  a  searching  glance 
upon  her. 

"  Because  it  had  th3  effect  of  making  you  dis- 
like and  avoid  me:1* 

"  Dislike  you  !  •' 

lie  paused  suddenly. 

'•1  never  regretted  it  for  a  moment}  but  I 


GOD'S  BLKSSINO. 

made  a  mistake.  I  thought  I  was  taking  your 
advice,  but  I  did  an  ignoble  thing,  thinking  it 
was  noble.  I  came  near  ruining  the  happiness 
of  three  people  by  my  self-conceit." 

"  Your  self-conceit  ? "  she  repeated,  question- 
in  Grlv. 

O    v 

<%  Yes.  I  did  not  know  I  was  possessed  of  so 
large  an  amount  of  the  article.  But  I  have  been 
well  cured  of  the  infirmity.  The  dose  was  bit- 
ter, but  it  did  thorough  work.  I  now  under- 
stand why  there  are  so  many  miserable  mar- 
riages. People  are  so  thoughtless.  They  rush 
heedlessly  into  the  most  important  step  in  life. 
I  shudder  when  I  think  of  the  irreparable  injury 
I  should  have  done  if  I  had  been  allowed  to  drift 
into  the  union  which  I  was  contemplating." 

"  Matters  have  adjusted  themselves  beautiful- 
ly,'' said  Frank,  not  knowing  what  else  to  say ; 
'•  AYill  Cameron  is  fairly  bubbling  over  with 
happiness." 

44  Yes,  his  face  is  like  a  song.  What  a  mis- 
take it  would  have  been !" 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment,  then  the  doc- 
tor spoke  again  in  a  low,  eager  voice. 

44  Frank,  I  said  a  moment  ago  that  I  was  cured 
of  my  self-conceit.  At  this  instant  I  feel  the 


2 16  SMALL  THINGS. 

old  symptoms  again  manifesting  themselves  and 
urging  me  to  even  greater  presumption  than 
ever  before.  I  sometimes  think  I  am  too  hope- 
ful, but  I  cannot  risk  the  shadow  of  another 
mistake.  '  Our  doubts  are  traitors,  and  make  us 
lose  the  good  we  oft  might  win  by  fearing  to 
attempt.'  I  have  never  considered  myself  wor- 
thy of  you,  Frank ;  but  my  heart — weak,  err- 
ing, irresolute,  as  you  have  seen  it  to  be — is  all 
yours,  and  has  been  for  two  years — in  fact,  ever 
since  I  have  known  you." 

"  O,  Dr.  Vail ! "  said  Frank,  in  a  pained 
voice,  "  and  you  would  have  married  one  wom- 
an knowing  that  you  loved  another  ? " 

"  I  suppose  so.  I  scarcely  realized  it.  You 
gave  me  the  right  name  when  you  called  me 
'  blunderer.'  The  fact  is,  I  gave  very  little  seri- 
ous thought  to  the  subject.  I  imagined  that  I 
was  doing  the  only  honorable  thing,  and  rested 
upon  the  merits  of  that.  Conscience  and  my 
own  heart's  cravings  I  silenced  by  a  close, 
steady  application  to  matters  relating  to  my 
profession.  I  comforted  myself  by  the  thought 
that  life  was  given  to  us  for  earnest  purpose 
and  strong  endeavor,  and  happiness  should  be  a 
secondary  consideration." 


GOD'S  BLESSING.  217 

"  I  think  in  this  case  it  was  a  question  of 
right,  not  happiness." 

"  Well,  that  was  the  light  in  which  I  viewed 
it.  I  stupidly  thought  that  I  was  doing  right. 
I  had  a  vague  idea  that  love,  and  all  that  per- 
tained to  it,  was  a  romantic,  boyish  sentiment, 
which  could  be  overcome.  I  thought  the  heart 
should  be  compelled  to  bend  to  the  will." 

"  And  you  were  overcoming  it  ? " 

"  No.  By  a  steady  persistence  in  holding 
myself  aloof  from  your  influence  I  might  have 
succeeded  in  burying  the  sentiment  down  so 
deep  that  it  would  seldom  have  confronted  me 
even  in  my  inmost  thoughts,  but  I  see  now  that 
the  effort  would  have  resulted  in  hammering  all 
the  finer  nature  out  of  me  and  rendering  me 
hard,  cynical,  worldly,  and  bitter.  I  believe 
there  is  more  of  that  kind  of  hardening  process 
going  on  in  the  hearts  of  men  than  we  are  aware 
of/' 

The  doctor  was  silent  for  several  moments, 
waiting  for  her  to  speak.  But  she  did  not 
speak,  and  he  felt  a  mist  coming  over  his 
eyes. 

"  I  see  I  have  presumed  too  far  after  all,*'  he 
said,  with  an  accent  of  great  pain  in  his  voice; 


218  SMALL  THINGS. 

"  you  cannot  overlook  my  defects  of  character. 
I  should  have  known  it." 

But  Frank  looked  up  at  him  with  eyes  that 
were  full  of  light. 

"  It  is  not  for  me  to  condemn  you,  Dr.  Tail, 
and  besides — 

She  did  not  finish  the  sentence,  but  he  caught 
the  falter  in  her  voice,  and  bent  eagerly  to  read 
her  face  in  the  moonlight. 

"  Is  it  possible  that  you  care  for  me  ? " 

"  Just  possible,"  she  said,  with  a  soft,  happy 
laugh.  "  All,  Dr.  Vail,  you  are  a  blunderer  ! " 

The  doctor  could  not  speak.  He  took  off  his 
hat,  reverently,  and  lifted  his  eyes,  through  the 
apple-blossoms,  to  the  stars.  The  place  whereon 
he  stood  was  sacred  ground,  for  it  was  as  if  God 
had  passed  by  and  laid  a  precious  gift  in  his 
hands. 

The  first  thing  he  did  was  to  break  off  a  large 
cluster  of  rosy  blossoms  and  fasten  them  in 
Frank's  hair,  just  above  the  forehead. 

"  Thanks  to  the  Wisdom  that  never  fails,  the 
blunderer  is  righted  at  last,"  he  said,  in  a  hushed, 
happy  voice  ;  "  let  us  make  our  lives  a  thank- 
offering." 

And  so,  under  the  light  of  the  beautiful  stars, 


GOD'S  BLESSING.  219 

they  went  down  the  hill  together,  with  hearts 
united,  never  to  separate  again  until  they  should 
reach  the  shore  of  the  river  of  death. 

When  they  reached  the  pai*sonage  they  found 
it  full  of  light  and  laughter  and  happy  voices. 

Frank  paused  upon  the  steps,  wondering  an 
instant,  the  next  there  bounded  out  to  meet  her 
a  young  girl  in  a  white  dress — a  beautiful  girl, 
with  long,  fair  curls,  and  eyes  like  spring 
violets. 

"  Mamie ! "  she  gasped. 

"  Yes,  Mamie.  We  came  to-night,  uncle  and 
aunt  and  I,  and — why,  Frank,"  drawing  her 
under  the  light  of  the  hall  lamp,  and  holding 
up  the  face  that  sparkled  so  beneath  its  blossom 
crown,  "  you  are  positively  brilliant !  What  has 
come  to  you  '( " 

"  God's  blessing,"  said  Frank,  very  softly. 


220  SMALL  THINGS. 


XXII. 

RAINBOWS. 

"  O,  dear  October !  well  may  I 

Lay  pen  and  pencil  down, 

All  sense  you  more  than  satisfy, 

And  with  such  radiance  crown  the  distant  hills, 

They  prophesy  of  hills  unseeu  by  mortal  eye. 

Sometimes,  in  dreams,  I  think  I  see 

What  longing  eyes  have  sought  in  vain. 

Something  of  what  that  life  must  be 

That  feels  no  sorrow,  want,  nor  pain, 

These  hills  beneath  October  skies 

Have  caught  the  light  of  Parad  se." 

ft  TTS  just  wonderful ! "  said  Miss  Sarepta. 

JL  "  What  is  wonderful  ? "  asked  Mamie, 
starting  from  the  reverie  into  which  she  had 
fallen. 

"  The  Lord's  doin's." 

The  old  lady  took  off  her  spectacles  and  wiped 
them.  There  was  a  blur  over  the  dim  eyes  to- 
day. Perhaps  she  felt  something  as  mothers 
feel  when  their  children  are  slipping  away  from 
them.  It  was  the  most  glorious  of  October 
days.  Far  as  the  eye  could  stretch  there  was  a 


RAINBOWS.  221 

golden  haze  of  light  and  color  and  beauty,  while 
over  it  all  hung  a  tender  mist,  like  the  exquisite 
shading  of  some  rare  picture. 

"  It  is  just  four  years  ago  to-day  since  I  made 
up  my  mind  to  stay  in  Crescent,"  said  Frank, 
speaking  unconsciously. 

She  had  been  sitting  under  the  shadow  of  the 
scarlet  woodbine  drinking  in  the  loveliness  in 
long  draughts.  There  was  a  sort  of  subdued 
glory  over  every  thing,  but  perhaps  that  was 
because  it  was  the  day  before  the  wedding. 
Such  days  are  apt  to  stand  out  more  radiantly 
than  other  days.  But,  be  that  as  it  may,  our 
heroine  was  a  very  pleasant  picture,  as  she  sat 
there,  under  the  shadow  of  the  woodbine,  with 
the  golden  haze  shining  over  her  brown  hair 
and  bringing  out  the  tender  lights  in  her  seri- 
ous eyes  and  the  blissful  curve  of  her  beautiful 
mouth.  Perhaps  she  would  never  look  again 
quite  as  she  looked  to-day. 

Some  vague  idea  of  this  had  been  passing 
through  Miss  Sarepta's  mind  when  Frank's 
words  recalled  her. 

"  Since  you  made  up  your  mind  to  stay  in 
Crescent?"  she  repeated.  "Why,  where  else 
should  you  stay,  child  2  " 


222  SMALL  THINGS. 

"  O  I  was  by  no  means  a  fixture  !  There 
were  other  places  for  me." 

"  Well,  it  was  a  good  thing  for  Crescent  that 
you  stayed.  You've  made  a  good  many  happy 
hearts  in  your  life-time,  Frankie." 

"  There,  don't  flatter  her,"  laughed  Mamie ; 
"  she's  fairly  running  over  with  vanity  now,  and 
well  she  may  be.  I  would  be  vain,  too,  if  I  had 
been  fortunate  enough  to  captivate  Dr.  Vail. 
Do  you  know,  Miss  Sarepta,  he  has  always  been 
my  ideal  ? " 

Miss  Sarepta  shook  her  head,  smiling. 

"No,  no,  child.  He  would  never  suit  you. 
Not  but  what  you're  deservin'  of  a  good  man's 
love,  for  you've  growed  up  into  a  very  nice 
girl,  a  good  deal  nicer  than  I  ever  thought  you 
would,  but  then  you're  too  much  of  a  rattle- 
brain. You  haint — well,  solid  enough  for  a 
man  like  Dr.  Vail.  He  ought  to  have  the  best 
kind  of  a  wife.  But,  then,  as  I  was  sayin',  it's 
wonderful.  "When  I  think  how  I  used  to  plan 
and  contrive  and  advise  the  Lord  what  to  do,  I 
say  to  myself,  *  Sarepta  Smith,  what  an  old  fool 
you  have  been  !  Jist  fold  your  old  hands  now 
and  sit  still.  You  don't  know  no  more  than  a 
baby.'  And,  O,  it  is  so  good  to  feel  that  we 


RAINBOWS.  223 

have  got  a  Father  in  heaven  to  take  care  of  us ! 
La,  we  needn't  fret  about  any  thing  in  this 
world,  no  more  than  if  we  were  babies  in  our 
mother's  arms.  For  it  always  comes  out  right 
in  the  end  if  we  only  wait.  Kow,  there's  War- 
ren. I  fretted  and  worried  the  life  most  out  of 
me  about  that  boy.  I  kept  fairly  teasing  God 
to  send  him  away  from  Crescent,  for  I  didn't 
seem  to  have  no  idea  that  he  could  be  turned 
from  his  evil  ways  while  he  stayed  here,  and 
the  harder  I  prayed  the  worse  that  boy  seemed 
to  be  goin'  on,  and  the  thinner  your  father's 
face  got,  and  the  bigger  your  mother's  eyes 
grew,  and  at  last  I  give  up  in  despair.  When 
Mr.  Sherwood's  store  was  burnt  I  said,  '  It's  no 
use ;  I've  been  pray  in'  six  years  for  that  boy, 
and  God  don't  listen.'  Laws,  I  needn't  been  a 
mite  discouraged  if  I'd  prayed  twenty-six  years. 
The  answer  would  have  come.  He  would  have 
been  saved.  And  in  this  case  we  got  ever  so 
much  more  than  we  asked  for.  I  didn't  seem 
to  think  the  Lord  could  make  Warren  a  bless- 
ing. I  thought  if  he  only  saved  him  it  was  all 
we  could  expect." 

Frank  did  not  reply.     She  was  thinking  of 
the  words   Mrs.  Milburn   had    spoken    to    her 


224  SMALL  THINGS. 

yesterday,  sitting  in  her  sunny  parsonage,  with 
her  brown-eyed  baby  asleep  in  his  cradle. 

"  God  is  so  much  wiser  than  our  desires, 
Frank ;  he  gives  far  more  liberally  than  we 
know  how  to  ask.  It  is  a  wronder  to  me  how 
any  one  can  lose  faith  in  him  as  I  lost  mine." 

"  Fan  Lewis  is  at  home,"  said  Mamie,  fasten- 
ing some  red  maple  leaves  in  her  belt. 

"  Yes.  She'll  always  be  herself,  Fan  will. 
She's  as  high-strung  as  ever.  She  laughs  and 
chatters  like  a  magpie  and  finds  fun  in  every 
thing,  but  I  do  believe  she's  got  better  princi- 
ples than  she  had  when  she  went  away,  least- 
ways, she's  kinder  to  her  father  than  she  used 
to  be,  and  that's  worth  considerable.  I  hope 
she'll  be  a  comfort  to  him,  for  he's  going  to  lose 
his  other  daughter  soon." 

Frank  started. 

"  How  do  you  find  out  every  thing,  Miss  Sa- 
repta  ? "  she  asked,  laughing. 

"  O  I  go  about  a  good  deal,  and  can't  help  it. 
I  was  over  there  about  two  weeks  ago  spending 
the  day,  and  I  heard  the  whole  story.  I  don't 
know  as  I  ought  to  tell  it ;  but  you  girls  know 
how  to  hold  your  tongues,  I  guess.  Well,  as  I 
was  sayin',  I  overheard  the  whole  story.  May 


RAINBOWS.  225 

he  I  hadn't  ought  to  a  listened,  but  then  I  could 
not  help  it  very  well,  and  besides,  I  was  just  a 
leetle  mite  curious.  I  was  sittin'  in  the  hall 
with  my  knittin'  when  Howard  Delano  came  in, 
and  he  didn't  shut  the  office  door  tight,  but  left 
it  on  a  crack,  so  I  could  hear  every  word. 
May  be  I'd  ought  to  got  up  and  shut  it,  but  I 
must  confess  I  did  have  a  sort  of  a  hankerin'  to 
hear  what  them  two  were  sayin'  to  each  other ; 
so  I  jist  sot  still  and  listened,  and  Dr.  Lewis 
says,  says  he,  '  Young  man,  I've  been  watchin' 
your  conduct  closely  for  two  years,  and  I  must 
admit  that  the  light  of  your  Christian  life  has 
shone  out  grandly.  I  am  compelled,  in  spite  of 
myself,  to  believe  in  you.  I  have  been  unchar- 
itable and  ungenerous,  but  if  you  are  willing  to 
forget  the  past  I  am.  If  you  want  my  daugh- 
ter, sir,  take  her,  and  you  will  have  my  bless- 
ing.' Them  haint  jist  the  doctor's  very  words, 
but  it's  the  sense  of  'em  as  near  as  I  could  make 
out.  Well,  Howard,  he  came  out  lookin'  very 
bright  and  went  off  to  find  Nel.  She'd  been  in 
the  garden  all  this  time,  waitin'  for  him,  I  s'pose, 
and  they  were  out  there  together  an  hour  or 
more,  and  then  he  came  in  and  stayed  to  sup- 
per, so  I  guess  it's  all  settled." 
15 


226  SMALL  THINGS. 

The  sun  was  beginning  to  shine  ?ow  toward! 
the  hills,  and  a  littie  breeze  blew  up,  tossing 
Mamie's  curls  to  and  fro. 

"  I  hope  it  will  be  pleasant  to-morrow,"  she 
said  ;  "  any  thing  but  a  rainy  day  for  a  wed- 
ding." 

"  It  wont  make  our  bride  any  the  less  happy 
if  it  rains  pitchforks,"  said  Miss  Sarepta  ;  "  she's 
got  a  contented  spirit  and  a  trust  in  God.  Ah, 
there  comes  the  doctor !  Young  man,  do  you 
know  what  you  are  takin'  out  of  this  house 
when  you  take  Frankie  \ " 

Dr.  Yail  laughed,  ^ut  the  light  in  his  eyes 
was  very  tender  as  they  rested  upon  Frank's 
happy  face. 

u  I  know  it  better  than  any  one  else,  Miss 
Sarepta,"  he  said. 

The  gate  clicked  again,  and  Max  Sherwood 
came  up  the  path. 

"  Here  are  letters,"  he  said,  tossing  a. package 
into  Mamie's  lap.  "  I  stopped  at  the  post-office 
as  I  was  passing." 

"  O,  they  are  all  coming ! "  cried  Mamir , 
gleefully,  as  she  read  her  letter.  "  Uncle  and 
auntie,  Mr.  Sutherland  and  Louise,  and  War- 
ren. Hear  what  auntie  says :  '  We  are  proud  of 


RAINBOWS.  227 

Warren.  He  is  growing  stronger  day  by  day. 
You  have  no  idea  how  he  has  gained  in 
strength  of  character,  firmness  to  resist  temp- 
tation, and  the  power  to  say  no.  One  would 
scarcely  recognize  in  the  big,  broad-shouldered, 
honest-eyed,  quick,  sharp,  decided  young  man 
the  weak,  miserable  wreck  of  a  boy  of  two 
years  ago.  O  it  was  well  worth  praying  for, 
wasn't  it  ? '  " 

She  folded  the  letter  and  laid  it  down  with  a 
little  sigh  of  weariness.  She  had  been  sitting 
still  a  long  time,  and  the  vigorous  young  frame 
was  tired  of  its  inactivity.  She  wanted  to  run 
and  jump.  Mamie  would  always  be  something 
of  a  little  girl. 

"  Come,"  she  said,  springing  up  and  holding 
out  her  hand  to  Max,  "  I  want  to  show  you  my 
June  rose  that  has  blossomed  in  October — in 
honor  of  the  bride,  I  suppose." 

Three  pairs  of  eyes  watched  them  as  they 
went  laughing  away  over  the  lawn  together. 

"  Do  you  imagine  there  is  any  thing  serious 
in  that  ? "  asked  Dr.  Yail  of  Frank,  in  a  very 
low  voice,  with  a  significant  nod  at  the  pair. 

Frank  started,  her  cheeks  flushing. 

"  "Why,  I  never  thought  of  it !  "  she  said. 


228  SMALL  THINGS. 

"  Nor  I  until  Lily  Cameron  gave  me  a  hint 
of  it.  She  was  hoping  it  might  be." 

Frank  did  not  reply,  but  the  smile  about  her 
lips  grew  very  tender,  and  a  sudden  joyfulness 
shone  in  her  eyes.  It  was  such  a  happy,  happy 
thought.  She  had  always  wanted  Max  for  a 
brother.  She  was  very  quiet,  watching  Mamie's 
white  dress  as  it  fluttered  in  and  out  among  the 
bright  leaves,  and  listening  to  the  music  of  her 
"\ight,  girlish  laughter  with  ears  that  heard  not 
/nd  eyes  that  saw  not,  for  her  heart  had  flut- 
tered up  into  communion  with  that  great  Heart 
of  Love,  like  a  singing  bird,  trilling  out  its 
grateful  thanksgiving  for  the  suggestion  of  this 
new  blessing. 

In  the  study  Frank's  gentle  mother  was  wip- 
ing away  a  few  quiet  tears. 

"  It  is  a  hard  thing  to  give  up  our  emidren 
into  other  hands  when  they  have  become  such  a 
joy  to  us,"  she  said  to  her  husband. 

Dr.  Farington  arose  and  looked  earnestly  into 
the  blue  eyes  of  the  wife  he  had  loved  so  long. 
All  the  pain  and  the  worry  had  gone  out  of 
them,  and  there  was  a  rainbow-light  shining 
through  their  tears  to-day. 

"  My  love,  it  cannot  be  that  you  are  grieviug 


KAINBOWS.  229 

because  God  is  calling  them  to  useful  lives!" 
he  said,  smiling. 

"  No,  O  no !  It  is  only  my  selfishness.  We 
have  every  thing  to  be  thankful  for.  He  has 
crowned  us  with  his  tender  mercies." 

"  He  has  given  us  good  measure,  pressed 
down,  and  running  over,"  said  her  husband,  rev- 
erently. "Let  us  go  out  and  see  the  sunset, 
Alice." 

And  so  they  all  stood,  watching  together  as 
the  great  sun  went  sinking  away  to  his  royal 
rest  on  crimson  pillows.  No  one  spoke,  for 
each  heart  was  full  of  its  own  thoughts. 

In  the  youthful  pair  on  the  lowest  step  of 
the  piazza  a  faint  something  was  stirring — a 
vague,  intangible  dream,  perhaps,  of  a  bliss  that 
was  to  be. 

Frank  and  the  doctor,  standing  hand  in  hand 
above  them,  were  gazing  past  the  sunset  gates 
into  the  life  that  lay  before  them,  concealed  yet 
radiant,  overshadowed  as  it  was  by  the  golden 
wings  of  God's  promises. 

The  minister  and  his  wife,  looking  into  each 
other's  eyes,  in  their  wisdom  and  experience, 
smiled  upon  the  young  faces  around  them,  not 
skeptically,  but  in  hope,  knowing  that,  though 


230  SMALL  THINGS. 

hard,  rough  paths  lay  before  the  bounding  feet, 
if  they  were  wise  in  that  wisdom  that  teaches 
peace,  there  was  nothing  to  fear  for  them  in  the 
shrouded  future. 

And  the  dim  old  eyes  in  the  rocking-chair 
were  looking  through  the  sunset  land  into  the 
perfect  blue  of  that  unclouded  country  where 
each  soul  shall  drink  of  the  fountain  of  eternal 
youth  and  rejoice  in  the  exuberance  of  eternal 
health. 

"  It  is  going  to  be  beautiful  to-morrow,"  said 
Frank,  breaking  the  silence  with  her  happy 
voice. 

"  I  suppose  you  think  that  all  your  days  are 
going  to  be  beautiful  after  this  ? "  laughed 
Mamie. 

"  On  the  contrary,  I  expect  to  meet  my  full 
share  of  storms,"  said  Frank,  smiling  content- 
edly. 

"But,  I  have  no  doubt,  you  have  the  pre- 
sumption to  imagine  that  there  will  always  be  a 
rainbow  ? "  interrupted  Max,  a  little  saucily. 

"  I  believe  there  always  will,"  interrupted 
Frank,  thoughtfully,  "  but  I  have  not  the  self- 
confidence  to  believe  I  shall  always  see  it." 

"  You  can  always  see  it  if  you  keep  the  mist 


RAINBOWS.  231 

of  the  storm  out  of  your  eyes,"  said  Ur.  Faring- 
ton ;  "  and,"  he  added,  looking  from  the  shining 
eyes  of  to-morrow's  bride  into  all  those  around 
him,  "  if  I  were  to  ask  a  blessing  for  you  two 
who  are  just  entering  life  together,  and  for  all 
the  rest  of  us,  it  would  be,  '  God  grant  us  clear 
eyes  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  every  rainbow  he 
puts  in  our  sky ! ' ' 

And  Miss  Sarepta  echoed  softly,  "  Aineu  ! " 


THE   END. 


